Phantasm First Act
by HunterKR
Summary: A young man awakens inside a war-ravaged world with no memories of his past, and no idea where he is. To make matters worse, he is being chased by a mysterious army of machines known as the Matrix. Why do they want him? And what connections does he have with them? Are they good or ill?
1. Prolouge: Fearless

Prologue **Fearless**

A large desert wasteland covered the horizon. Rocks stuck out of the baked and cracked ground. The sky was red in the coming dusk, and nothing stirred. There were no animals, no people, and no wind to disturb the silent terrain. Until something moved. A little boy, perhaps ten or twelve, slipped in and out of the shelter of the rocks. He wore a tattered cloak tied around his neck, and goggles on his forehead to protect him from the sun or sand. His skin was tanned and dry, but his eyes were bright and full of curiosity, for he had seen the small outbreak of motion below, and went to investigate. After a few minutes of running, he began to believe that whatever was down there had disappeared back into the sandy wasteland, but then he saw something.

There, a couple yards in front of him, was a tall, robed figure. Much taller than any grown-up the child had seen. The robe covered much of the figure's face, and the boy couldn't even see if it had one. The boy took a step forward, and the figure turned around immediately. The kid drew back and hid behind a rock, his blood pumping. The boy took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and began to hear foot steps. The figure was leaving. The boy waited a moment before peering behind the rock again. The figure was walking right for another rock. The boy was confused. The figure didn't even slow down as he approached the boulder. But the moment the figure touched the rock, he disappeared.

The boy's mouth dropped open in surprise. Though slowly at first, he ran over to the boulder and felt the sides of it. It was completely solid, but how did the figure get in, then? Maybe the figure was a spectre! Maybe he just walked through! But no, his guardians had told him that no such things could exist. But he knew what he saw, and if it wasn't a ghost, then it was a...

The boy turned around and sprinted away, his chest tightening from fear and the dash. If something this odd happened, he was told, then it was from the robotic beasts that tore apart this land before he was even born. It was those warring robots, the Matrix! He ran behind a rock and stopped to catch his breath. He began to feel sorry he ever followed that thing. If it was from the Matrix, and it knew where he was, he must've endangered his whole family. A shadow passed over him. He looked up to see what looked like a bird fly over him. The boy smiled for a moment, but it left as a thought struck him. He was told that birds left the land long ago. Then what was...

The bird circled around and drew closer, and the boy's eyes widened with terror. The bird was mechanical. It was a matrix mech. And crawling over it like hatch lings on a spider, were humanoid Matrix drones. The boy sprinted off just in time as the drones dropped off of their ornithoid ride. The boy crawled into a small crevice in the rocks and curled up inside, shivering from the upcoming cold. He heard the thudding of the drones hit the ground, but to his relief they weren't coming towards him. But he knew better than to get out and look. He had better wait until the drones were well away. A few minutes passed and the boy finally looked out of the rock. The drones were approaching the rock that the specter had just disappeared into. They apparently knew where the figure had went off to, and wanted to find him, for good or ill. But by the looks of the creatures and their weapons, they weren't looking for peaceful negotiations. The boy noticed that one drone had just stopped to turn around. The boy wisely retreated back to his hiding spot and squeezed his eyes shut.

The only illumination in the room was the monitors that flickered on when the figure entered his secret chamber, and that was just the way he liked it. The figure pulled down his hood, but the shadows still blocked the features of his face, but for what was sure, his face bore no human features. The figure approached one of the monitors and started to work with a nearby console. The bright screen began to show a picture. The image was fuzzy and mottled, but re-adjusting brought the clear picture of a news report. The figure scowled at the report. It was a live documentary from Jericho city, which was a many days trek away. He listened closely to the report as it caught his interest.

…'_In the city's hard time with all the disappearing people and constant outbreaks from lone Matrix drones, the city of Jericho was facing a crisis. However, in these passing months, a hero appeared. Though at first it appeared to be another Matrix drone, this was what we now know are called Neo-Soldiers; humans crossed with the Matrix's dreadful technology. Most Neo-Soldiers are ordered to attack or capture, this one revolted and protected us, single-handedly protected us from the Matrix's endless attempts to bring this city to the ground. Though skeptical at first, the government came to accept this crusader's help, and even named the figure, -'_

The figure snarled upon hearing the name, but kept listening.

'_However, after the Matrix's latest and seemingly last attempt at the city's destruction, he vanished. Not a trace of the already incognito hero were found. Some believe that he gave his life and defeated the Matrix, but none can be sure-_

At that, the figure turned the machine off. He stalked back and forth in his cavern, his eyes glared at the dusty floor. _How could a Renegade so willingly stand still and hold his ground, other than flee and be rid of the predicament all together?! The fool was still too Mortal. Not all his mortality was burned away by the flames of the Matrix's cruelty!_

The figure looked up from his pacing and his eyes narrowed. _And, that is why, he is doomed to corruption. The heart of a mortal is easily broken by the power of a Neo-Soldier. He's obviously alive. My interventions have disrupted things, and he probably hasn't found the Ether, yet. That gives me a chance to remove him, and the Matrix, before he evolves._ A sound was coming from a further area of the chamber.

The figure stalked down the corridor and entered a room filled with large containers stuck to the wall, and one was shaking. The figure approached the container, which was, in fact, a stasis pod, and whatever was inside, was awakening. The figure approached the pod and pressed a small button on the side. A gas filled the inside of the pod, and the thrashing gradually died down. "Sleep..." the figure rumbled in a voice that was barely human. "Our plan hasn't initiated. A sleeping warrior need only wake when it is his time..."

The figure stared until the pod became completely still again. He stalked back and forth around the pods. There were little over ten with him. He wanted more, but he decided to make the most of it. _Do I have enough?_ he asked himself. _There's the chance that they won't listen, and the chance that they may remember what they were... My plan may fall into ruin. But... I can always make new ones, though I'd hate to do that to people who are still existent in the world. Such prices, for a better future. The Matrix must not survive. Lycaon must not come to be. If any of this were to happen, then history will repeat itself once again._

A rumbling interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and watched as the ceiling began to crack. Large sounds came from outside. The figure snarled again. _They found me..._ He thought to himself.

The boy stared as the drones opened fire on the large rock. But after the first few shots, the boulder disappeared, and what was left was what looked like a fractured part of a large machine. The large Bird Mech dove in and clawed at the apparition. _What do they want?_ the boy thought to himself.

The bird drove its claws into the structure and started flapping its large metallic wings furiously. The Structure shifted and groaned, but would not move. The drones came forward and jumped on to the building, driving their arms into the metal framework. One succeeded in tearing off a large piece of the wall. It turned to its comrades and let out a triumphant screech. Its lower mouthpiece split like a spider's when it squealed, which gave the boy shakings of fright.

The bird let go and flew away, but began to circle back. Its wings began to glow a bright neon-green, its beak split like a flower and started to rotate, and finally a sparking blast of energy was released that hit the structure, shattering it. The structure all but crumbled, leaving the figure and his pods exposed. The boy gasped at the site. The figure's head, which was metallic and synthetic, looked canine, and reminded him of Anubis, an Egyptian legend that wouldn't be out of place in this desert.

The figure threw his hood back upon his head and held out his hand. A blast of black-violet energy struck the mech and hit it into the ground. The figure leaned down and picked up a scepter from the ground. He struck the ground once with it, and it began to glow as circuitry-like markings illuminated it. The figure chuckled and in one swift motion, swung the scepter to one side, sending a wave of energy that struck the drones, and kept going. The wave hit the rock the boy hid in and brought it to the ground. The boy crawled out just in time before the rock crumbled on top of him. It was done. The figure approached a dying drone and stepped on its chest. The drone looked up at the figure and began to sputter barely audible words. "_Kr-! Kra-! Ram-ses... Ramses!"_ At those words the figure crushed the drone with his foot. The figure turned back to his wrecked base and approached the pods. Some of the pods were damaged, and the exposed circuitry sputtered sparks. His eyes narrowed. "At this rate..." he whispered. "I will have to re-establish!" He angrily threw his sceptre to the ground with an animal like growl.

"Ramses?" The figure slowly turned around and looked at the boy. "Ramses, is that your name?" The boy asked. The figure was silent. "...Ramses was the name of a king of Egypt. I think the name is cool, like what you just did. What else can you do?" The boy asked. The figure turned away. He picked up his sceptre and raised it in the air, and the boy fell back in fear. But the the figure brought it down and let it rest upon his shoulder. It looked back at the boy, and its gaze softened. "You are brave... and smart. But I have no time to dawdle. I have work to do." The figure threw out his hand. "Go!" he shouted. "Tell others where I am, if you must, but I will be gone before night comes."

The boy rose to his feet and ran off. The figure looked at the pods. "Ramses." he thought to himself. "...It need not matter." He approached the pods. _I need to move these. If I disrupt the process, their minds will be blank... but I have no choice. They'll know what to do. Memories are not readily necessary in what I need them for._

* * *

The moon shone bright in the night sky. One could've read a book in this light with little trouble, but the sheer cold was unbearable. A small layer of frost covered the desert ground. In the morning, the sun would melt the ice and the water would bake the ground even more. This cycle made the desert more and more barren, and it has done so more than twenty years.

The boy returned to the site, but this time, with an adult. They wore larger, thicker cloaks in exchange for the thinner ones from earlier in the day that would only protect them from the sun. Their faces were nearly completely covered with a face-cloth that kept the sharp cold out of their face, and their goggles were down. They both carried a small double-sided light with them, one light flashed a color, and the other one gave off light for vision. If anyone from an easy city like Jericho were to see them out in the night, their goggles shining like eyes, they would've easily mistook them for ghosts.

The adult approached the wrecked site and started turning rubble over. All that was left was shattered equipment, pipes, pieces of metal, and other such. "Anything, uncle?!" The boy called through the wind. The man shook his head. "Nothing!" He said as he tossed a pipe away. "Unless what you say isn't true, this might as well be a normal ruin!" But then the man laughed to himself. "Of course, if it was right here this whole time, and we never saw it, then it's not normal at all!" The boy approached the rubble and looked around the ruin. He was hoping to have come sooner, but his uncle, who accompanied him now, said it was too risky to interfere if there was an actual Matrix drone working there. "There were... ten or twelve containment pods against the wall, over there." the boy pointed to the spot, but there was nothing there. The uncle shook his head. "The big guy probably moved them. Why don't ya go and check it out? There might be something we can bring back." The boy nodded and went over to the area, but he didn't want to salvage and get some fancy technology, necessarily. He wanted answers. But it looked like he wouldn't get them any time soon.

The boy started to move what rocks and bars he could, but then noticed something glimmer in the moonlight. He ran over and saw what looked like a transparent sheet in the rubble. He carefully moved the rubble out of the way, and what he saw made him gasp. "What is it?!" the man called. The boy shook his head, he had no time for words. What he had found was one of the pods. He started to unearth the pod some more, and after a moment, the man ran over to help him. After ten minutes of work, the pod was completely visible. The man smiled.

"Looks like there might be some stuff to grab after all!" he said with a clap of his hands. The boy got up and looked around. Now that he saw the pod up close, he realized; that the others were still here! One's corner stuck out of the rocks, and another one was only hidden by the lack of light. The man saw the same thing. "If these things are worth it," he said. "We've hit the motherload!" The man started to move rubble away from the pod they uncovered. "C'mon, let's see if we can't open this!"

After the pod was completely unearthed, the man started to mess with the controls on the side, yielding no results. "This thing still has power, and that's a wonder in itself!" he said as he angrily pressed button after button. "Why'd the guy leave such good tech to rot like this?!" he asked aloud. The boy wasn't listening though. He had uncovered another part of the pod, and saw something marked on it. "Uncle!" He called. "Over here!" The man left his frustration for a moment and went over to the boy. "What's this?" the boy asked as he pointed to the bottom of the pod. There was writing on it, but not any writing the boy was familiar with. It looked like a language, that was for sure. The man looked at the words.

**фантазма**

The man scratched his head. "What is it?" The boy asked. "It's... Bulgarian, I think." The man answered. "But what does it say?" the boy asked again. The man thought hard. "It's not that hard... _Phantazma_, I think. Phantasy...? No! Then it'd have to be Fantasy, but then there's an m..."

"Phantasm?" the boy asked. Silence hung. "...Well it's not out of the Bulgarian dictionary, but I don't see any reason to call it that." The man answered. After a minute the man shrugged and walked back to the controls. "Let's get this thing open and head home. We can come back later with more men." The boy nodded and started to help his uncle. The boy knew little about circuitry or buttons codes, but he was determined. After about ten or so minutes of toil, the Uncle's patience was spent. "...What a piece of junk!" The man shouted as he rose to his feet. "Stubborn piece of... graah!" the man angrily struck the pod with his foot. And then... It opened!

A gray mist rose out of the pod, and the boy backed away. Too bad for the uncle, for he was downwind. One whiff and the man began to lose his footing. "Er... uh... I think... I'll take a... lil' rest..." And with that, the man collapsed. The boy waited until the mist had cleared, and then ran over to his uncle. He was alive, but drugged into sleep. The boy looked back at the pod and carefully approached it, cautious not to inhale any leftover fumes.

The pod was empty. Nothing was in it. The padded interior would've been perfect for a human to rest in, but it was empty. The boy felt a bit disappointed, but he dismissed it as he knew that this could be brought home. He was about to go rouse his uncle, when he saw something glimmer inside the pod. He slowly reached down, and pulled up a small object, looped on a small chain. He held it up to the moonlight, and saw that this was a locket. He tried to open it, but the hinge was locked. He noticed a small hole on the side of the locket. He had half a mind to bust it open, but he decided not to. The writing on the bottom of the pod caught his attention again; Phantasm

The boy kept thinking to himself. Phantasm meant illusion, but more like an illusion so large and real it would be like a dream. The boy looked at the pod. "Why would this be called Phantasm?" he asked aloud.

_**Because he was trapped in one...**_


	2. Chapter 1: Answerless

**ANSWERLESS**

A man was thrown to the ground. He tried not to breathe too hard, lest he give away his waning strength. He was surrounded by two figures. One was his size, perhaps his age, but his true appearance was blocked off by a tattered robe. But there was nothing else to hide. In the low light of Dawn, energy lines shined beneath the robe. This was a Neo-Soldier. And so was his partner, who was three feet taller and that much larger. Red, piercing eyes glared from under the robes and unto the beaten figure on the ground. The smaller one slowly and soundless-ly stalked around the beaten man, tsk-ing at their prey. He reached down and pulled the broken man to his feet, with very little effort.

"You lied...!" he hissed as he threw the man down. The man struggled to his feet. "I did not," he reasoned. "The sarcophagus' were there! I swear it!" Before he could continue, his enemy drew a staff and struck him to the ground. "They...were..." the Soldier gripped his staff with rage as he finished. "...EMPTY!" The man laughed, and for that he was struck yet again. "WRETCH!" The soldier screeched. "The great one would render you headless for that!" The man only laughed again. "And what makes you so bold as to even say this great one's name?" he asked. "What did you do? Fetch him the post? Let him use you as a stool? What does he owe to you? What do you even owe to him?!" This time the soldier was too frustrated to attack. "What does this great one even promise you, after taking your humanity and freedom? A better world? What could be better than leaving him?!"

The soldier began to snarl like an animal. The hulking one behind him raised its fist, but the other one pulled it down. "He plans on giving us a better world than this rotting carcass of one! Through any means necessary..." the small one replied. The man smiled. "Yeah, as if he already didn't do that! Don't you idiots see it? He plans on rebuilding this world from scratch!" the two remained silent. "This landmass doesn't count as scratch, these cities, don't count as scratch! We don't count as scratch! None of the people in this world, none of the people that help him!"

The man looked up at the hulking one. "Do you think he's gonna use any of you unlike he already did?!" The hulking one was silent. The smaller one remained silent for a long time. Finally, the soldier drew a bladed weapon from his robe. The man had a start, but the blade was un-activated so he was eased. The soldier drew a small container from the hilt of the blade. The container was small, and contained a glowing liquid. "You don't know anything more?" he asked. The man shook his head. "Then do you know what this is?" the soldier asked. The man began to grow frightened. "This is a new element that a friend of mine found, I like to call it 'Azrael'. Does that name sound familiar to you...?" he asked as he drew the vial dangerously close. "This is a disease, and it wiped a whole entire town in a series of days. Do you know how it feels to get hit with this?"

The man began to back away fearfully as the soldier came closer. "First, the body begins to age. Skin pales, eyes cloud, and bones weaken, then the body begins to turn against itself, and those that don't survive to the final stage die from the sheer shock of it! And finally, hours upon hours of pain and mental turmoil. The only end is to live it out, or to end things yourself..."

"Stop!" the man cried. "I-I know something!" the soldier drew the vial away. "The ruins... one of them was left at the ruins of Springfield! We gave him nothing. He should be easy to retrieve..." the soldier's eyes lit up with delight. "Very well," he hissed. "Now you just stay there like a good boy. Don't go anywhere..."

With that the two turned around and walked away. The man let out a sigh of relief and went limp against the ground. But he could not rest long, for the unmistakable sound of Matrix drones marching sounded in the distance.

The hulking one looked down at his partner as he put the vial back into the weapon. "Duskur..." the large one rumbled. "That Vial... wasn't Azrael."

"No, it wasn't, my friend," Duskur replied. "But it might as well have been. If he believed it strong enough, he would've fallen ill if he didn't cooperate." The large one snorted, sending his hood back a little. "Are you going," it asked. "The enemy?" Duskur shook his head. "No. I will let the drones handle it. If he's as unarmed as the prisoner says he is, than I don't need to get my hands dirty."

"If he lies?" the large one asked. Duskur chuckled. "Then we kill him."

* * *

Large buildings lay on the baked ground. Asphalt streets lay in between, slowly wearing away. Street lights lay towering above the unused roads. Some flickered on and off, but rarely. The electrical wires dangled off of the useless poles. Buildings towered above the destroyed ground, their windows like mirrors against the soft dawn's light. The chilly winds began to die down as the sun gave way upon the destroyed city.

_Murderer... liar... Traitor... deceiver... A barren landscape... thunder crackled... rain swept through the sky... a lone figure stood among a hill of debris... his form was hidden in the rain and lightning... He wielded a sword that crackled with energy... his eyes blazed red in the darkness... He took a step forward and struck one of the piles of debris... the debris... no, bodies... Laughter. Insane, meaningless Laughter..._

**... time to wake up.**

_Light... gray light. An empty room... empty seats... where am I...?_

A man lay strewn across a couch, inside an old dusty room. The half asleep man observed the room. The room must have been an old office, for there were many seats and couches around the room, and a small desk in the middle. The windows' glass were worn and dusty, and were so filthy that only light filtered in. He moaned and felt his forehead as he slowly arose. The dim light of dawn filtered in through the filthy windows. The Man yawned and looked around once more before standing up.

He noticed that his legs were a bit uncertain, so he quickly reached for support. He apparently hadn't woken in a very long time. His body was sore and his bones ached. The man let out a moan of frustration as he tried to walk on his own, with some success. The man saw a mirror on the far side of the chamber and carefully approached. What he saw shocked him. There in the reflection stood a tall, perhaps 20-year-old man, wearing a black shirt, ripped jeans, steel toed boots, a chain for a belt, a small necklace with an ID tag on it, and finger-less brass knuckled gloves. But what shocked him was his face. His hair had brown sideburns, but what was left was silver in color, and what was stranger, strange lightning-like tear-marks ran down from his eyes. He tried to smudge them away, but they wouldn't disappear. The man took this moment to try to piece together where he was, but realized that he had absolutely no idea who he was, or what he was doing there. A moment of despair fell upon him.

The man took a look at the tag he wore around his neck, and the steel tag had the word 'Storm' imprinted on it. The man paused. Storm? Is that a family name? He certainly didn't think it was his, then again, he didn't know too much about himself anyway. A choke rising in his throat alerted him to the fumes in the room. He coughed and realized that the foam in the couches was decaying, and the room wasn't pure in air at all. He was about to leave, but then he noticed something on the desk. It looked like a sword's sheath, perhaps with a blade in it. The man reached and pulled the sheath up. The sheath looked new, and there was in fact a blade inside it. He carefully pulled it out, and erected a long sword from the sheath. It looked slick, perhaps Asian in origin. Markings adorned the sides of the blade, but in no language he was aware of.

He held the sword, and let it swivel with his wrist. The result, one of the couches was sliced in half. The man put the sword away and strapped it to his back. He apparently already knew how to use it, and from what he judged, he would probably need it.

Upon entering outside the office, he saw that he was at the bottom of a building, with floors and floors above him. Tall advertisement tarps, battered and torn, hung from the ceiling. 'Discount... Free until Feb., 2055...?' The man stared for a bit. 2055? But the place looked so torn up? How long has this place been abandoned? Ten years? More? The man thought hard, but then he was hit with a sudden pang of loneliness as he realised that he was the first person here for a very long time, and things will probably stay that way. But no. He wasn't going to stay here. He had to get moving and figure out where in this world he was.

A start, he decided, would be to get a better shirt, as his black-sleeveless one wasn't doing the job in this cold, abandoned building, which he deducted was a shopping complex.

It didn't take long for him to find a clothing section in the building, but most of the clothes were eaten up by moths and crusty from years of neglection. But he looked hard, and he eventually found a crimson jacket, that looked his size. It had a biker-esque skull with wings on the back, but he decided to take it anyway. For all he knew, he wouldn't be meeting anyone else for a long time, and he needn't worry, even if this was just a bit too macabre for his taste. A pair of eye-shades he found should help hide his odd face, for the time being. On his way out, he noticed a trail of white cloth in the corner. He walked over and picked it up, and found a white sport scarf, but the ends that were in the blackened corner were singed. He took the piece of cloth and tied it around his neck. He found an odd liking to the idea of wearing it like so.

The man found a window and looked outside, hoping to see where he was, but all he found was a ruined city. This disappointed him even more, but he'd rather focus on getting out. A rumbling from his stomach reminded him how hungry he actually was. But where would he find food in a decade old shopping building, even then, food that's any good?

Perhaps he could find some bread somewhere deeper in the building. So he departed, and found a lower level of the building that housed what used to be a super market. But the moment he opened the door to the area, the overwhelming smell of age-old rotting food pushed him back. He slammed the door shut and decided to look elsewhere.

After finding a few bags of crumbly bread and a sack to carry it in, he decided to try to find a transport. This place probably had automobiles before it was abandoned, and there should still be some here. But for some reason he found the idea of working machines in this place disturbing. What disturbed him the most was how he knew so much about this world and so little about himself.

After a few minutes of aimless searching, he decided that what he was looking for was in another building, as this one yielded no results. He eventually found a door that was nearly concealed by rubble and splinters, but he quickly cleared them away. As he reached for the door, an urge to stay inside hit him. Perhaps outside was dangerous, and it would be safer to stay until plain daylight died away. But no. He was going to find what he needed so he could get out of there, and find perhaps safer ground.

The moment he opened the door and went outside, he was hit by a chaotic change in temperature. The sun was blindingly bright and seared down on him, but the wind was so cold it hurt any of his exposed skin to touch. He decided to bear with the estranged weather and make it to another abandoned building. It was not difficult at all to find one. Opening the door was the hard part. The mixture of rocks and dust blown in from the wind was as hard as cement, and opening the door frustrated him so much he tried to tear the door out of its hinges. To his surprise, he was successful, and after a moment of tugging, he held the severed door in his hand. He paused, but dropped the door without a second thought and walked in.

This building was just as empty and dilapidated as the last, but this one looked more like a computer plaza. Useless pieces of electronic gadgets littered the floor and empty tabletops. Carefully stepping over them, he made his way over to a desk and looked at the shattered tools. These gadgets sparked curiosity in him, and he wanted to see, childish thought it was, if any of them still worked. Not surprising at all, none did. Dust and neglection had rendered the electronics useless and fragile. With a bit of disappointment, the man started away from the desk when he hit his foot against something. He knelt and saw that there was a small package on the ground. It was made of now-disintegrated cardboard, but on the inside, Styrofoam and plastic shielded a small smartphone from years of erosion and wear.

The man took the gadget out of its packaging and tried to turn it on, to success. The battery was low, and there was typically no signal, but a working computing device was something he would prefer to keep around. Yet another thing he could understand but couldn't remember. He stuck the phone into his bag and took one last look around the building. There was no signs of transportation, so he decided to look elsewhere. Something rustled.

The man jerked in a direction and grabbed his sword's handle. With such a reflex it was obvious that he used this thing, or at least another sword before. This made him feel slightly better about who he was, but he was too distracted by the outbreak of motion to think for long. More rustling. The man began to breathe harder. He felt adrenaline rush through him. He started to think how he was going to evade whoever was within the building, or face whoever and see if it was passive.

A green spark flew by and struck a wall, crumbling it. The man had no time to look. He immediately ran for the door. More sparks were shot at his feet as he ran, all near misses. As if it wants me to run... The man ran outside into the chaos and drew his sword. The sword glowed bright silver in the harsh sunlight. For a moment, there was only stillness and the blowing of the wind... Another shot was fired, but the man blocked the shot with his sword, sending the shot rocketing into the other building. No time to congratulate himself on the maneuver, the Man ran back into the first building and blocked off the door.

He breathed heavily as he waited for another sign of movement, but there was nothing. Then he heard footsteps. He held his sword in front of him and carefully walked backwards. The thought just struck him on how the sword was able to deflect the shot so easily. The sword wasn't exactly normal looking, at least from what he could tell. Maybe it was special, or something. His thoughts were broken by the footsteps quickening. Still holding his sword in front, he backed away quicker, careful to avoid debris on the floor. He backed into a corridor and carefully took the bag he was using and set it down. Hopefully he would be able to retrieve it once this madness passed.

The footsteps grew fainter, and the man relaxed a little. Perhaps this meant his armed pursuer was looking elsewhere and he could escape. He carefully moved forward from his hiding place, and thankfully, if anyone was there, they had long gone. The man let out a sigh and was about to put his sword away, when he heard another sound; scratching. He reached for his sword and carefully observed the level of the building. He looked in every direction, and there was nothing there. He was about to relax again, when he noticed a green lighting on the floor. And then he realized; he hadn't looked up.

He looked up just in time to see the spindly figure of a matrix drone jump from the ceiling. The metallic creature spat and hissed at the man as it groped for his neck, but with surprising strength, even to him himself, he shoved the beast off and drew his sword. The creature moved in such an lofty and unsure way, it made the man uneasy. Finally, the creature raised its claws and charged forward. The man held out his sword and lashed out, hitting away every attempt of a swipe. The creature reared back and jumped for the man. Terror took him and he fearfully held his sword in front of him. The sound of sword ripping metal sounded throughout the building. The man stared awestruck. The sword had impaled the creature. The Drone's eyes went dark, its limbs went limp.

After hesitating, the man flung his sword, sending the Drone flying from the blade and into a wall. The man stood panting. He looked down on his sword, and stared at a glowing green liquid oozing off of it. For a moment, the man felt disgusted, but then he realized that the creature was synthetic, and this was not gore, but simply a substance for the false being's system.

The man sighed and took a tattered piece of cloth off of the ground and wiped the blade off. He went to retrieve his bag and leave the building. Another shot hit the ground before he could grab the bag. The man turned to see two more Drones stalking down the hallway. His eyes narrowed under his shades as he grabbed the bag and streaked away in the other direction. He exited the corridors and jumped behind a wall just in time as a thousand energy bullets shot out of the corridor.

The man set his bag aside once again and drew his sword. After a moment of waiting, he ran in front of the corridor and started reflecting the blasts with his blade. As planned, many of the shots hit the drones right back, and the man was able to keep this up for a bit, but when one of the bullets grazed his arm, he decided to move on and run.

Outside, he decided. He would do better outdoors with two robotic drones stalking him._ Shoulda stayed inside,_ he thought to himself. _They never would have found me._ He started climbing, level after level, closer to the top of the building. He would be able to avoid them at that terrain, perhaps.

After climbing crumbling stairs and halls, he found a small chamber with a lift inside. That would take him to the top easily... if it was twenty years ago. The mechanism was rusted and failing, and walking inside would be suicide. Just then, the sound of a drone screeching broke the silence. A Drone broke through the floor and started climbing out. The man darted away, but then another drone climbed out of the floor. These were probably the same two from before. They were better at tracking then he thought, disappointingly.

The two drones approached from both sides, slowly trapping the man. His mind raced. Face the drones and die, or try to evade them and die. The drones weren't going to let him decide. The first one acted first, charging forward with its clawed hand straightened and rigid. The man quickly drew his blade and sliced. The drone, fake and lifeless it may be, let out a shriek of pain as its arm separated from its body. The man stared at the arm. It leaked the very substance he found on his sword. The arm writhed and struggled like an ailing snake. Perhaps... that fluid, makes their mechanisms move.

The first Drone backed off, snarling, letting the second one attack. The man was too lost in thought to evade getting pinned to the ground by the second drone. The drone screeched and struck him with its hard metal fists. The man ignored each blow and slashed his sword on the drone's back, implying it to jump back. The man grabbed a shard of metal debris off the floor and threw it at the drone. The drone didn't even try to evade. The metal struck the drone's chest and shattered like a piece of wood. The drone gurgled what appeared to be laughter and charged forward.

The man decided to use his sword again, and landed a slash on the creature's chest. The drone's armor split, revealing pipes and machinery on the inside. The drone fell to the side in surprise, and the man took this chance to run.

He finally made it to the balcony on the top, and hastily carved a way out with his sword. He got on top of the building and was once again exposed to the chaotic elements outside. But what he saw horrified him. On the land below, swarming like ants towards their prey, were Matrix Drones, by the thousands. It almost sickened him to see so many at once, no matter how far down they were. The drones alerted to his presence, and the silence broke as an outbreak of screeching and metallic clanking erupted from below as they rushed for the building. The drones stiffened their claws and started to claw their way up the building.

He had little time to react, for the two already damaged Drones broke out of the ceiling and closed in on him. The man readied his sword, with much begrudging in mind. He wasn't willing to stand by and let the creatures take him down, but the ugliness he was about to commit made him uneasy, and almost shameful._ Live or die..._

The Drone he had slashed in the chest jumped for him, but he used his sword and struck the drone, sending it hurtling down to the swarm below. The one-armed drone tried next, but was delivered to the same result. The man let out a sigh. This wouldn't hold them. He would have to incapacitate them, or wound them, if he was to be sure they wouldn't crawl back up. The ones that started to climb were nearing him. He readied his sword, wished forgiveness from whoever was in control, and drove his sword into the drone. The shock was enough to send it hurtling below, but more took its place.

The man fended them off, trying to damage them as little as possible. He was able to send most of them below, until finally there was only one left crawling up. The drone attempted to claw him, and he sliced off one the drones chest armor. The man's thoughts paused as he stared at the exposed machinery. Unlike circuitry and pipes like he was expecting, instead, inside there was a writhing mass of pipes, coiling and squirming like a mass of snakes. His hesitation costed him a crucial second. The coiling ugliness leaped out, and wrapped around his hand!

The man struggled, but the pipes were as hard as iron, but that didn't limit how flexible they were, they would not bend to his struggling. The core let go of the drone and swarmed his hand. The core of pipes stuck and coiled around his hand, and the drone it once controlled hurtled below, an empty husk.

He started to panic. The tentacles began to flatten and harden, forming a sort of armor over his hand, and something told him that if he allowed the core to finish, he would not be in control of his hand anymore, or worse, it may spread. He sliced the core off with his sword, and the core fell to the swarm below, screaming much like the drones. The synthetic armor on his hand turned brittle and crumbled off, giving the man his left hand back. A thought struck him, and he was a bit confused about why he hadn't thought of it before. Are these the reason this place is abandoned?

The drones below were growing impatient, and now were crawling up by the dozens. He wasn't willing to openly attack any more drones, so with the small gap in the wave of attackers, he took the chance to retreat.

Quicker than he could care to remember, the man was already at the bottom floor. He ran for his bag of supplies, right where he left them, and ran off to try and escape the building from the other side. The sound of stone crumbling and wood snapping broke out as another drone broke through one of the walls. This drone was larger than the others outside, and it was much more armored. The man turned to look at his new pursuer, and a shudder of defeat went through him. His mystery of a life was about to end, much too soon.

The drone rumbled and held out its arm like a gun. The man was too confused to run from this odd gesture, but then, the Drone's hand retracted into the arm, and multiple what appeared to be Gun Barrels folded on to its wrist. The man stood puzzled at this odd change in shape, but then the arm began to rotate, and he knew what it was. The arm fired energy blasts like a Vulcan and the man fled for his life. He hid behind a wall and carefully drew his sword, but then the blasts broke through one side, and he was forced to run.

Halfway through another hallway, the drone still in the other room, the man stopped running and started to consider. His chances of escaping were very slim if he let that drone chase him, but his chances of surviving altogether were slim if he went to fight it. He pulled his sword and looked down upon it.

With one last sigh, he carefully retraced his steps to try to find the drone. Unfortunately, it found him. It broke through another wall and grabbed him, holding him up in the air, hissing and spitting. The man groaned and sliced at the drone's arms with his sword. This drone's armor was much more stronger, but his sword still made a big enough fracture to make the drone let go. The man jumped behind the drone, drove his sword into its back, and pulled it out, pulling it up at the same time. The drone snarled and fell to the ground. The man held his sword to the Drone's head, but hesitated. The drone was too shocked to attack. Just when the man made up his mind, the glowing spots on the drone's armor began to blink.

* * *

The swarm of Matrix drones outside hissed and spit as they clawed at the building. But they stopped and backed away at the arrival of Duskur, the hooded Soldier from before. He looked up at the building. The sound of Destruction and battle raged inside. He looked at the drones. "You weren't able to kill him." he said coldly. The drones lowered their heads and cowered back. Duskur looked at all the drone pieces that littered the ground. "And he was armed..." Duskur mumbled. "Is the berserker inside?" he asked. The drones quickly nodded. Duskur drew a small console from his robe. "Well, then, let's finish this with a bang," he said as he pressed a button. A timer appeared on the screen. Duskur smiled. "Scatter," he ordered.

* * *

The man stared at the flashing drone. The drone looked just as surprised. It let out a frightened shriek and tried to crawl away, but its body went limp. _ ...Flashing... timer...A bomb!_ The man took his sword and fled. The drone let out a mournful moan as the flashing neared to a stop. The man ducked behind a wall just in time as a wave of heat hit him from behind.


	3. Chapter 2: Nameless

**Nameless**

The glaring sunset was what roused the man from his sleep. He slowly pulled himself up and looked around him. He was safe and well, inside another building, his bag of supplies was even there! He carefully walked outside, into the elements once again, and saw the destroyed building in the distance, crumbled and ruined. _How did I..._ The man wondered he managed to escape, and at that, unscathed. Then he thought about that drone that apparently self-destructed. He felt just a bit sorrowful for the drone, being betrayed by its comrades like that. He still remembered its mournful cry before it met its end. He let out a long sigh and went back into the other building.

The interior was what he was looking for all day, a vehicle store. The products were in surprisingly good shape, but there was no room for a large car in this wrecked world, even if it wasn't as tall as him. There was no room on the destroyed road to use it. He decided to find something smaller. Looking over the various models, he came across a crimson motorbike, and judging by the printed words on its side, it was an X-0 Maverick. He slowly looked over the vehicle, searching for any obvious signs of wear or breakage. The key was still inside the ignition. He rotated the key, and the bike began to rumble and sputter until it flicked to life, and then died. With a bit of disappointment, the man looked over the bike, and found that there were a few pieces broken or missing, and it was out of fuel. He looked in the distance and saw a counter with all the repairing tools he would need, fuel, and parts. He felt a sense of happiness and hope, but he didn't smile.

It took him until night-time to fix it, but finally the bike was ready, and there he stood on the broken, abandoned road. Two bags were strapped to the sides of the bike, one was fuel, the other was food. He was still puzzled how he knew to work a machine but couldn't remember who he was. No matter. He carefully seated himself, activated the bike, and rode off, and became only a shrinking dot down the destroyed road, his scarf waving behind him.

* * *

Off in the distance, hidden by the shadows of twilight, a hulking brute stood perched upon a wreckage, robed and concealed. It saw the man survive, and leave. His partner never told him of any interfering forces. The figure snorted, sending its hood back. It waited until the bike was out of sight, then took off on leathery wings.

* * *

The road was fractured, but the man was able to maneuver away from any possible crash-zones. As the buildings grew lesser, more open wasteland appeared. As the last signs of the city disappeared behind him, a large green sign appeared in the distance. The man pulled his bike to a stop and looked at the sign, illuminated only by the bike's headlights.

'You … now leaving... Springfield' some of the words were smudged or worn off, but he was able to get the message. "Springfield?" he asked aloud, but had a start. He had never spoken before, and his own voice surprised him. He hesitated, but rode off again. _Springfield... that must be the name of the destroyed city behind me..._ he thought to himself.

As the sun finally disappeared over the horizon, the wind grew very cold. Only the warmth of the bike and his jacket kept the man from succumbing to the cold. But no matter how warm he was, his inside was freezing. He finally began to consider what kind of situation he was in, and in his recent events, he had remembered something; despair. _I have no idea who I am, the world around me is in shambles, and those things obviously don't want me around. What happened? Why can't I remember? Why do they know me? And how am I able to do all these things but know nothing? ...Will I ever find out? Am I even in the right direction?_

Depression hit him. He may never learn anything, and for all he knew, he may never find another city with the supplies he found earlier, and in more ways than not, he shouldn't be alive. He was somehow inside an ancient wreck, he somehow avoided a giant explosion, and... He drove these thoughts out. He didn't need to worry. He already knew some things, and was learning more about himself. He knew how to use a sword, he knew how to defend himself, he was educated as far as he saw, and he didn't like killing. The drones were false, synthetic creatures, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when he ended their programmed lives. He didn't want to kill, so much he almost felt guilt, guilt from something he had done in his past. But why?

This seemed to unlock a door deep within him, for his mind was flooded with a memory, perhaps from long ago. _I've done this before...I've ridden like this, free, unknowing, uncaring... but there was a city around me... and I was with somebody... a girl. Who was she... what was her name...?_ a rumbling snapped him out of his thoughts. The sand behind him began to shift and sieve. And then it stopped. But he knew better than to think it was over.

A few moments passed, and then, the rumbling started again. A large serpentine shape, indiscernible in the light, rose from the sand and started to wave and strike at the lone Biker. A wild jerk to the left saved him from the first strike, and the a jerk to the right saved him again. The man took one look behind him to see his attacker, and then drew his sword. Careful to keep his eyes on the road, the man attempted to strike the serpentine figure when it got near him, but the speed of the strikes kept his sword from penetrating, and only the strong metal in the sword kept the force from making the man fly forward when he was struck. As he drove out of the attacker's range, the figure began to move through the sand, leaving behind a long trail that was quickly filled up by the moving sand.

The man looked up at the attacker to see that it wasn't moving. His thoughts were once again shattered by more rumbling. Two more shapes emerged from the sand, moving at the same speed as the first. The man studied them hard, and realised that the two shapes where claws! Giant Mechanical claws! And then he realised that the first shape wasn't a serpent, it was a tail.

Slowly two giant red glowing eyes emerged from the sand. A single horn rested upon the beast's head. The man's eyes narrowed. He was being chased by a Giant robotic Scorpion. The machine let out a cry from its multi-jawed maw, a long booming sound like metal groaning, that echoed through the desert. It opened its claws, revealing two large barrels, no doubt cannons. The man Frantically frenzied his ride-pattern, trying to make himself a scarce target. It didn't work, mostly. The first blast just missed his bike and singed one of the bags, thankfully it wasn't the bag of fuel. Fuel. The man looked at the bag of fuel. He had at least ten bottles with him. And and at the rate the bike consumed fuel, he could risk a bottle. He carefully pulled one bottle from the bag. It was the best bet he had, and he probably would be able to find another source within a week. He looked behind him, carefully took aim, and threw the bottle. He sped up his bike to avoid the explosion. The heated surface of the mech made the gasoline react immediately. The man could see the flash of the explosion even as he sped away. He stole a chance to look behind him, but his heart sank. The beast was only weakly damaged. It's right claw was fractured, but the rest remained unscathed.

The creature grew violent. It lashed its tail more often, and it started to engage in berserk charges that the man could only dodge by pulling his bike away in a completely different direction. But the scorpion kept chasing him. By the third or fourth detour, he was sure he'd lost his original path. He decided that he would have to try something else, and focus on damaging the machine again, as it wasn't about to give up the chase. He carefully drew his sword and tightened his grip. He held out his sword to a nearby boulder to check its strength. After what the sword was able to get him through, he didn't doubt its durability, even at this speed. The boulder was sliced right through, and he barely felt the push. He looked up and noticed an archway of stone, supported by a few boulders. He hit the gas and sped his bike closer. He could hear the Scorpion quicken its pace. He held out his sword and with one swing, struck one of the boulders, shattering the support. The archway crumbled from behind him. He shot a look back, and saw with more disappointment that the beast wasn't stopped. But with relief, its terrible tail was rendered useless.

He was about to search for another obstruction, but a wave of heat missed him. The sand a few feet in front of him smelted. He looked behind to see the Scorpion had readied its left claw and was hurtling shots at him. The man frowned. It didn't look like an easy escape would come from this machine. He would have to actually engage, and the thought made him tremble. It wasn't fear, but doubt that weakened him. Drones sure. Rocks sure. But a giant mech that had the power to kill him in one blow, disheartened him. Another blast broke his thoughts and just missed his bike. Again, he began to wonder if the creatures wished to kill him, or simply corner him. Another thought struck him. He pulled his bike around and pulled it to a stop. The Creature stopped too. It lay many yards from him, its synthetic life drooling from its mandibles. It held out its only weapon and started to charge a shot. The man held his sword in front and took a deep breath.

The shot was fired. The man swung his sword. With a blinding flash, the blast was reflected, but the man's hand was hurt from the heat. The blast hurled back, and struck the beast in its face, releasing sparks and shards of metal. At this, its patience and rationality were immediately spent, and it made a mad dash for the lone traveller.

The man hesitated for a second, wondering what to do, then, he readied his sword, and ran for the creature. _Stupid_, he thought to himself. _Stupid, Stupid, but it has to be done._ The man held his sword and stood his ground. As the creature neared its target, it lashed with its claw and tried to swipe the man. The man jumped back from the attack, farther than he expected, and noticed something. The creature's horn was leaking its fake life and energy, and it had little armor around it. _...It might be like an exhaust port... Will it help if I destroy it... or... ruin it..._ The man saw his opening. The creature's claw was lodged in the ground, not far from his bike. In one swift motion, the man ran, jumped to and from his bike, and landed on the creature's fractured claw. With much difficulty, he ran up the beast's arm, careful not to let any skin touch its sizzling armor. The creature quickly acknowledged the nuisance and started to lash with its tail. The man took a leap of faith and jumped from the arm and unto the main body, while the tail struck and rendered the arm useless. The armor constantly shifted, making it a chore to just take a step, but the man finally approached the head. As he expected, the area around the horn was very hot, and getting near it was like getting near a fire. He jumped on to the head and gripped to a molding in the armor.

The creature threw its head and struggled. The man held on and carefully readied his sword. He struck, and partly to his relief, the horn was not cut, but bent over, out of its designated state. Already the scorpion appeared to grow restless. It's already useless limbs went limp and started to throb and whip. The man jumped off the head. With a rolling start, he ran for his bike. The scorpion began to hiss and flail, until finally, an explosion of neon-green erupted from its head as it fell limp. The man shielded his face from the blast of heat and stared at the dead- deactivated body. One last melancholy moan came from the creature's hide before its eyes went dark. The man frowned and turned away. _They must make their creations act like that on purpose!_ he thought to himself.

He readied his bike and rode off. _I didn't kill it._ he told himself. _It was never alive._ That didn't rid him of his mystery source of guilt. _Who am I? And why do I feel like a murderer?!_

Hours upon hours of riding through a barren desert is not easy on one's imagination or morale. Finally, just as his bike's fuel level began to wane, he spotted formations ahead. At first, he was hoping for civilization, or even a wreck of one. But no. It was a charred and almost petrified forest. With a bit of disappointment, he changed direction toward the forest. The trees would probably give shelter from the wind. _How do I know this?!_

He pulled up his bike and let it lean against a tree. The man took off his sword, pulled some bunches of clothing out of his bag and used them as a cushion as he laid against his bike, using the exhausted engine for warmth. He tried to sleep, but something was gnawing at him. He awoke with no idea who he was, and he apparently knew how to fight, but... Why was he here? Who awoke him, and why does he feel this way about killing? Was he even supposed to be alive? He sighed and leaned his head back. _No._ he decided. _I need to worry about other things. I need to look for people to tell me where I am. I need to know what's going on, and if anyone knows anything more about those things..._ A shock hit him. He remembered leaning against a charred landscape much like now, but someone else was with him. A younger person... younger than him. And in front of them both... The memory left as soon as it came. With a sigh of frustration, the man started to doze.

Sound broke out and rose the man. It was early morning, so he had rested for a few hours. He did not consider it sleeping because he was half awake with anxiety of attack, and now his hours of half-sleep were paid off with an occurrence to prove his caution, something moved in the distance. He immediately grabbed his sword and sat up. "Who's there?!" he asked. one of the charred bushes started to rustle. "Come out! I mean it!" the man said as he rose to a kneeling position. Slowly, the person behind the bushes revealed himself.

A boy, perhaps nearing adolescence, crawled out of the bush and stood up. He wore a tattered cloth around his neck - the man assumed this was for warmth from the cold-, and eyepieces left idle on his temple - the man assumed these were to protect him from the heat. The boy was not frightened, and this made the man both calm and uneasy. The boy did not retreat when the man rose to his feet. "...Hello..." the boy said slowly as he waved. The man was silent. "How'd you get here?" the boy asked. "Did you come from the narrows?" The man didn't answer. The boy's expression fell a little. "...Sorry, I thought you might've been one of my friends." He said quietly. The boy looked behind him, and his eyes widened. "...A working motorcycle?! Where did you find that? How did you get it to work?" The boy took a few steps forward, but the man took a defensive stance. The man glared underneath his eye shades. The boy backed up to a respectable distance and walked around the bike to get a better look. "Wow... a real bike! My uncle would love to see one of these! Did you repair it on your own, or did someone give it to you?"

"You..." The man began. The boy quickly turned his attention to the man. "How are you willing to approach a complete Stranger so casually?" the man asked. "...Because you're not a drone," the boy said. "I should give somebody a chance if they're not a drone, that's what my mom told me."

"How do you know that I am not a thief or a criminal?" The man asked. "Because a criminal would've ran," the boy answered. The man stared at the boy for a long time. "I saw you kill the Scorpion." the boy finally answered. The man did not answer. The man twitched at a small gurgling sound. The boy lowered his gaze and held his stomach. "...Um..." the boy mumbled, obviously trying to force out some words. The man looked at the boy hard. With a small sigh, he turned to his bike and started to unpack the food bag.

The boy quickly, but daintily, attacked the food that the man gave him. The boy surprisingly made short work of the crumbled bread and dried vegetables he had found in the building. The boy didn't complain, though he did conceal a wince here and there upon eating something that was obviously expired. "...You're a scavenger?" the boy asked after finishing his small fill. The man paused. "And what term is that?" he queried. "A scavenger... takes what he needs from the old buildings," the boy said. The man set his jaw, trying to mask any compassion. "How do you know I'm not a thief?" the man asked, "and stole the food from someone else?" The boy paused.

"Thieves run. You didn't run from the scorpion, and you didn't run from me."

"How do you know I am not faking this, and holding you against your will?" The man tried to sound threatening. He certainly didn't want to get the boy involved in his dilemma, and the sooner he left, the better.

"...I don't," the boy said. "But... I was told to try and trust people like you."

"And what... are people like me?" the man asked.

"Brave... and alone..." the boy said. He said these slowly as to not spark any offense, but the man felt none. "I know men a lot older than you. If you were any older and out like this... then I'd know..."

The man didn't know what to think. Here he was, in the middle of a barren and un-giving world, and out of the blue someone who is compassionate, and not suspicious of him at all. Maybe he should be the suspicious one. The boy rose to his feet. "Thank you for the food," he said with a polite bow. The boy held out his hand. "My name's Teru." he said with a smile. The man was dumbstruck. Kindness when he didn't expect it. He hesitantly held out his hand, and the boy shook it. "What's your's?" he asked. The man was silent again before answering. "I don't know..." Teru paused. "You... don't...?" the boy didn't finish. The man gripped at his tag... and then remembered the name printed on it. He never thought he would need it... "Storm." he answered. My name is Storm. Teru drew back a little. "Are... you sure?" he asked, he had apparently taken great notice to the man's hesitation. The man nearly felt a frown come to his face, but he nodded. "Do you know anything else?" Teru asked. _Why should I answer a complete stranger...?_

"No."

Teru stood up and looked at the direction of the sun, looked to the horizon, and whispered some numbers to himself. "My camp's down that way!" he said, pointing to the east. "I know someone who might be able to help you!" Dumbstruck again. The boy eagerly looked up at the man. "You'd be willing to take a stranger to your camp...?" the man asked. "If he's not a robot, then no one will care!" The boy said.

The man, or rather, Storm, cleared up his things and started up the motorbike. He looked back at the boy, Teru, who sat right behind him, the boy's eyes gleaming, even with his goggles down. Storm paused. He felt a new feeling. Something warmer, happier. He was finally feeling hopeful in this wasteland, thanks to a curious little boy. And finally, Storm remembered to smile, and Teru smiled back.

* * *

Duskur impatiently waited on the outskirts of an old building. He tapped his long scythe on the ground as he hummed a dirge to himself, the only thing that kept him entertained. Finally, a purple dot showed in the distance. Duskur activated his energy and waved his scythe. In response to the symbol, the dot made a loop in the air. Finally, the hulking figure landed next to Duskur and retracted his wings. Duskur nodded. "Report." He said solemnly. The hulking one rumbled details in a tongue that only Duskur cared to learn. The report made him frown. "He survived, and they intervened... give me details! Hair, skin..." His companion rumbled the answers. Duskur's eyes widened from beneath his hood. "White hair?!" How old is he?!" The hulking one gave an estimation. "That young?! He's an Az-" he didn't dare finish. "That rat!" he screeched.

The blackness of the room was broken as the door opened. The beaten man squinted his eyes as he interpreted the form of Duskur enter the room. Duskur stopped just inches from the man's face. The man's arms and legs were cuffed and strapped to the wall, leaving the man a few feet off the floor. "I have bad news, my friend, you didn't tell us the truth..." The man let out a weak laugh. "I'd sooner turn on my friends, than call you a friend!" the man spat. Duskur struck the man for the remark. "That man was armed! That man knew how to fight! And that man... bore scars..." the man looked up at Duskur after he finished ranting. "You are going to tell us what you did to him, where he is, and everything about your project!" The man was very quiet. He turned his head from the two. "Kill me now and spare your frustration!" Duskur's eyes twitched with anger. "Belphes!" Duskur screeched. The hulking one walked forward. "Give him some motivation!" Duskur said as he backed. Belphes held out his hand, and gripped the man's face. Energy surged, but the man felt nothing. All he saw was terrible, evil, images flood his mind. Terror, death, disease... "Augh!" the man trembled. "Stop! I'll talk!" Duskur let out a grunt, and Belphes let go. The man took a moment to collect himself. "The project members are being sent towards the east coast," he said. "That's all I know!" There was silence. The man looked up just in time to see the two leave the room. The man cracked a weak smile. They took the bait. Just as the fiend closed the door, the ceiling shook a little, and it wasn't from the door.

Duskur barred the door to the dank chamber and crossed his arms in thought. Belphes looked down upon him. Duskur started to cackle. "I believe I know who our mystery interloper just might be!" Duskur cackled some more. "Who...?" Belphes rumbled. "Gehehe... one of the prototypes!" Duskur hissed. "One of the ones that led the destruction of the haven! One of the first Neo-Soldiers to be revealed to the alliance! ...And Ramses chose them! Heh!" Belphes shook his head.

"Don't understand." he said quietly. "Those rats were the terror of the early days! And now Ramses is using them like little knights for his little cause! Huh! They won't listen to him! Their guilt will outweigh anything Ramses would make them do!" Belphes shook his head.

"Their minds... nothing... Memories gone... Ramses rushed them..." Belphes mumbled. Duskur's cackling stopped, but then a smile alighted under his hood. "Even better...!" he hissed. "Fine! Let them listen to the old dog! Let them think they're heroes! Let them evolve, let them remember their true forms! But we have something against them, that no forgetfulness will hide for long!"

"What is...?" Belphes asked. His vocabulary was limited, but the soldier's intellect was no joke. he could see what his partner was getting at. "The truth... of what they did, what they were, and what they always will be... Killers. No killer will help a cause like his."

Belphes rumbled quietly in thought. "Battle Program," he whispered. "Some won't remember." Duskur twitched. "Perhaps..." he whispered. "I want you to go back and find the interloper. But don't attack! Watch him, study his behavior and skills, I want daily reports, we can figure out who he is then..."

**_Now... Be_**** still...**

…...!

The two gasped as if they had just awoken from sleep. Duskur looked to the horizon to see the sun setting. It wasn't when they were talking...! Duskur turned around and tore the door open. Their prisoner was gone.


	4. Chapter 3: Selfless

**Selfless**

The man lay in the shade of a rock against the setting sun, rubbing his aching wrists. His attire was comparable to the people of the colonies but he wore an unknown emblem on his shirt, and a small cross stringed to his belt. He was middle aged and his hair was black that turned white around the bottom. He looked to the hooded figure who stood in front of him, who stood kneeling and respiring and clinging to his long staff for support.

"Many thanks, my friend." the man finally said. The figure turned to him for a moment before returning his gaze to the horizon. "Don't thank me... Veron," he rumbled. "Until it is over. Don't forget what I expect of you." The man, Veron, turned away and nodded. "Of course, Ramses," he mumbled. His gaze wandered to Ramses' trembling figure. "Are you injured?" He asked. Ramses looked down upon his weakened form. "Breaking the flow of the river... is no easy task!" Ramses growled. "Half of my energy was used making sure we both didn't drown!"

It took Veron a minute to realise that Ramses was talking about the trick he pulled that helped him escape the small prison that those two Neo-Soldiers held him at. Veron carefully stood up and walked towards Ramses. "Shouldn't we get going?" Veron asked. "If I were those two, I'd be scouring the area." Ramses shook his head. "No... not yet! I have the energy to protect us, but not the power to escape... yet. We wait for total nightfall, and then we move."

Veron sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Got anything to eat?" he asked. "Those two back there don't know anything about food." Ramses was quiet before pulling a small bag from his cloak and tossing it to Veron. He caught it easily and hastily opened the bag but was disappointed by its contents. A few sticks of tough baked dough, very tasteless and very filling. "Oh look..." Veron said with a smile. "More lembas bread." Ramses grumbled to himself. "I see you have no sense of humor..." Veron mumbled.

* * *

"Over there!" Teru called over the wind. "To the right! There's my camp!" The man, who had just taken the name Storm, nodded and steered the motorbike towards the growing dot in the distance. It had only taken them little over an hour to find it, but Storm was hoping for a longer time to think how to talk to the people he was about to meet, but every time his mind was just met with more doubts.

"How can you be sure there won't be hostilities?" Storm shouted over. Teru had to shout twice when he answered. "We're supposed to give other people a chance, otherwise we'd be like them."

"Who's 'them?'" Storm asked. "The Matrix..." Teru mumbled. "The machines." Storm understood Teru's silence. This Matrix was obviously very powerful. Powerful enough to drive the world around them into a primitive state of survival and fear. He doubted being a child made things any easier to understand or accept. But he still didn't know what the Matrix was or what they wanted of the land they apparently already conquered. But he decided against asking the boy.

"My mom will be willing to help, she's nicer to strangers than the others are," Teru said. "Nicer?" Storm asked.

"Well, our camp doesn't like strangers, but Mom's more welcoming than the others."

"By what Standard?" Storm asked. Teru didn't answer. "Um... I dunno." Silence hung. "You sure ask a lot of questions for an adult!" Teru said. Storm bit his lip. A few minutes later, the camp finally came into sight. Most of the buildings were tents, but a few were crude houses with a tent for a roof. A few more sturdy looking buildings stood at either end of the camp, Storm assumed this was for storage, and a small patch of plowed earth was at one end.

"First tent to the right... slow down here!" Teru said as got ready to dismount. Storm did as he was told, and stopped his bike a couple yards in front of a greenish tent, held in front of a small crude hut. Just as the Motorbike pulled to a stop, a woman exited the tent. She looked near middle-aged and Jaded, and her attire was comparable to Teru's, but the cloak was in better condition, which she wore around her shoulders.

Teru jumped off of the bike and ran to her. "Mother!" he called. The lady reached down and embraced Teru as he came to her, and looked up icily at Storm. "Who are you?" she asked quietly. Teru slid out of her grip and pointed to Storm. "He's a scavenger! I found him around the forest. He needs to know some stuff, and I said we would help him." His mother did not look impressed. She stood up and looked at Storm straight in the eye. Storm braced the intimidating stare, trying not to make a move that would turn off his shelter. After a moment, the woman finally walked into the shade of the tent. "You can come in," she said. Storm nodded and climbed off of his bike and started towards the tent, but the woman held her hand out. "If, you take that off," she said. as she pointed to the scabbard on his back. Storm hesitated. He didn't want to part with his only piece of protection, but what was more important? His comfort, or his host's? He decided on the latter, took his scabbard off and tied it up to his bike.

The inside would've looked unimpressive to someone from the shelter cities, but Storm was almost fascinated, as he had never been inside one for all he remembered. He couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgia, and that comforted him a little. It told him he remembered about dwellings.

"Sit down," the lady said as she went over to one side of the tent. Storm obediently sat down on one of the few chairs, while Teru seemed quite content to sit on the floor. "You shouldn't be out so late, Teru," the lady said as she brought over a small bowl of food. "You missed breakfast." Teru bowed his head sorrowfully. "Sorry, I wanted to see if they were coming home," Teru said as he began to eat. Storm looked outside. "There were many tents outside," he said. "but where is everybody?" The lady sat down in the other seat. "Inside, for good reason," she said. The silence did not last long, and the lady set her eyes hard on Storm.

"Where did you come from?" she asked. Storm struggled for an answer. "Springfield," he decided. The lady shook her head. "That city's destroyed, and it's inside Matrix territory. There's no way you came from there." Storm was pressed for an answer, but the lady moved on with a new question.

"What's your name?" she asked. "Storm, I'm called Storm." He answered. Once again the lady looked unimpressed.

"Is there anything you're willing to tell me?" The lady asked somewhat harshly. "Um..." Teru mumbled. The mother looked back at her child. "He says he can't remember anything." Teru said. The lady looked surprised. She looked back at him. "Nothing?" She asked. Storm thought hard for an answer. "He seems to know how to work stuff pretty well, but can't remember anything about himself," Teru said. The lady's expression didn't change. "A little too good to be true, don't you think?" she asked. "How do I know I didn't let a thief into my house?"

Storm bowed his head a little. "It is my understanding that you don't wish to emulate the machines outside," Storm said. "I feel the same way." This seemed to win the lady over a little. "...I see no reason to deny you shelter," she said quietly. "But I also can't see any reason to let you stay." Storm nodded.

"I understand." he said. Teru raised his hand. "He killed a scorpion!" he said quickly. The lady's eyes widened. "Is this true?" she asked. "...I did defeat a colossus on my way here," Storm said. He couldn't bring himself to say kill. The lady thought down and started thinking everything over to herself. "Mom?" Teru asked. "Didn't you say you used to be a nurse for this kind of thing?"

The session was over as soon as it began. A few questions from the lady, and a few answers, and her conclusion was made. The lady put up a small, dusty clipboard she had used for notes and put up a reference book with it. She shook her head. "Well, you're an amnesic if I ever saw one," she said. "But you know so much about technical stuff, yet know nothing about yourself and therefore the world around you, It's just..."

"Too good to be true?" Storm asked. The lady sighed. "Not really, I was going to say I wouldn't expect to see something like this except from a lame soap-opera." Teru, who had leaned over the couch and watching the whole thing, let out a bored sigh after hearing his mother's reference. He had apparently heard enough about these 'Soap operas'. This didn't improve Storm's hopes on finding his memories, but it did make him feel better to see other people concerned.

"So, can anything be done?" he asked. "To help me recall anything?" The lady sat back down. "Perhaps..." she mumbled. "Cases of complete amnesia are rare, and unpredictable, so there hasn't been enough research to develop precise cures." Storm nodded, trying to mask his frustration. "What I can suggest is looking for triggers," she continued.

"Triggers?" Storm asked eagerly. "Triggers that will help you remember things. Places you've been, or things you do, all these can help you remember stuff." Storm nodded again and looked out at his bike. "When I started riding that thing," he said. "I remembered doing it before, but I didn't find much about myself." The lady smiled.

"That's a start," she said. "What else that might help, do you think?" she asked.

"I have reasonable experience with a weapon I found, but..." Storm looked out at his bike again, and froze. Someone was approaching it. He rose to his feet and ran outside. The person was a man, perhaps in his thirties, wearing the typical attire, and he was jerking at the straps of the scabbard, which were securely tied to the bike, preventing any movement. The lady followed Storm outside.

"Ammar!" she shouted. The man jumped back at her voice and looked at Storm. He started to nervously laugh. "I-I S-Sorry! It's j-j-just, It's a v-very nice bike! I just wanted to..." the man stammered over almost every word. Storm let out an annoyed sigh. This didn't stop the man from jerking at the tight strapping. "Who tied this thing?" he asked. "It's like chains or something..."

"Ammar!" the lady shouted again. "_Back Off_!" At this, the man quickly drew away from the bike. "Well, f-fine, sheesh sis... it's j-just a..." The lady looked to storm. "I'm sorry. He likes to mess with machines." She turned and glared at the man. "Even though he's old enough to know when to quit!" The man crossed his arms, but before he could protest, a noise sounded in the distance. Storm instinctively reached for his sword, but he had left it at the bike. The lady grabbed Storm's arm. "Wait," she whispered. A dot formed in the distance. After a moment the body of a large jeep appeared. Then another. Two large jeeps were heading towards the village. Teru eagerly ran outside. "They're here!" he called. "They're here!"

The following half hour was confusion for Storm. People rushed outside the Tents, mostly adults, to welcome the caravan that just arrived. A small group of young men were in the jeeps, and they were all armed, but they waved and called to the camp as they arrived. After the jeeps pulled up, people started unloading them. Crates of supplies and clothes were the majority, but the second jeep had a lot of machinery pieces and broken parts inside. These were given to a small group of people, Storm noticed the man from earlier was in the group. Most of all, the men that arrived were welcomed with open arms and laughter. It confused Storm to see so many people at once, and was confusing to try and focus on so many things at once, so he withdrew from the excitement and went back to his bike.

Teru noticed Storm's withdrawal and ran over to him. "What's the matter?" he asked. Like always, Storm took a moment to answer. "Who are they?" he asked. "Those are the guys I was looking for when I found you," Teru explained. "They go out and look for supplies and bring them back here."

"A search party?" Storm asked. Teru nodded. "But we like to call them the Pack. A lot of them are from this place, but some guys from other camps have joined. Come on, I'll introduce you to them!" Teru grabbed Storm's hand and tried to lead him over to the jeep, but they both froze.

One of the men that was wounded, and was being helped out of the jeep. Teru's mother immediately ran to the man's side and helped him away. "Oh no..." Teru whispered. He left Storm to go help the man. "Caden!" Teru called as he ran up to him. Storm concluded as he saw this; He was looking for answers in this world, but he saw that these people had their own life within it, and he would have to worry about himself later. So he withdrew back to his bike and watched the situation unfold from afar.

* * *

Veron struggled to keep his eyes open as he followed Ramses through the dark. Ramses' energy lines from under his robe shone gentle light around him as he walked, making him hard to lose track of. But unfortunately the light wasn't bright enough for Veron to see, and more than once he struck his foot on a rock.

"When you said Night, I didn't know you meant late night!" Veron complained. Ramses let out a huff. "You had plenty of time to rest with the two Neo-Soldiers," Ramses grumbled. "Chained up and a foot off the ground isn't considered resting!" Veron snapped. "Hush now," Ramses whispered. "Any louder and I'll have to shut off my energy to make sure we don't get followed." Veron frowned and continued the orderly pace. Veron wasn't as serious on the matter as Ramses seemed, and he was almost dying to strike a real conversation. Unfortunately, only one thing came to mind.

"Will... the azr..." he couldn't bring himself to say the word. "...Silver haired guy be alright? Will he still feel any symptoms?" he asked. Ramses huffed again.

"No... the Ether can do many things... Including healing. I made sure he wouldn't have another attack."

"What is this Ether you keep talking about?" Veron asked. "Something no one will ever need to know about... If I succeed." Rasmes answered gruffly. "And I'll need your help to succeed. Don't forget that." Veron nodded in response, not that Ramses needed one.

Ramses stopped pacing and held his arm out, signaling Veron to stop. Ramses carefully observed the dark terrain. Something stirred, and Ramses hurled a blast of energy from his staff, shattering a rock and sending a figure on his back.

"Aaah! I come in peace! I come in peace!" the figure wailed. Ramses lowered his staff.

"_The seven curses plagued the land..._" Ramses recited.

"_...and we were delivered by the Savior's hand!_" the figure recited back. Ramses put his staff to his side. "Approach," he called. The figure carefully approached. He bore a staff like Ramses, but his was smaller. His attire was much different from what was worn at the colonies, and looked more like the robes Ramses wore to hide his armor. The figure gave a respectful bow. He looked back at Veron.

"I'm relieved, I heard you were caught!" he said. Veron shrugged. "Wasn't so bad. Besides all the meaningless beatings... and the yelling, and did I mention they don't know anything about food?" The figure let out a hearty laugh.

"Our prophet is just as spirited as always!" he said. Ramses' eyes narrowed, implying the laughter to stop.

"We are here on business...!" Ramses rumbled. "You may make merry later!" He turned to the figure. "Thoth! Have the others awoken?!" he asked. Thoth nodded. "My three have, but I haven't heard from the others. It's hard to keep in touch without a network." Ramses nodded.

"And you know why we can't do that!" he said sternly. "Any difficulties?" he asked. "I ran into a Caravan when I was searching for the others. I gave them some warning shots and retreated. That's it."

"Have you found any other Neo-Soldiers?" Ramses asked. Thoth shook his head. "None besides the two Devilkin. The Matrix has been very sparing with their Neo-Soldiers ever since they moved shop." Ramses nodded. "All thanks to the Jericho Renegade."

"Sir... are you still planning..." Thoth began, but Ramses cut in. "Our current mission is to diminish the Matrix's power outside of the havens, anything else must wait." Ramses checked their surroundings before moving closer to his helper. "Did they have amnesia?" he whispered. Thoth nodded. "Yes, but all of their programming allowed them to survive for the most part. They remembered some after meeting each other, but they still don't understand the situation." Ramses nodded. "The more, the better." He turned to Veron. "What about yours? What has happened to him?" he asked. Veron let out a nervous laugh. "They... forced his location out of me." Ramses glared. "For your sake, I hope he was combat ready," Ramses growled. Veron knew that Ramses wasn't as cruel as he sounded, but he couldn't help but back up out of fear.

"That's the thing, I told them we gave him nothing so they sent in a weaker than average force to get him." Veron explained. "What I didn't tell them was that he had a weapon from the start, so he was able to escape." Ramses eyes lit up. Although he didn't like lying, he enjoyed this kind of trickery. "What else?" he asked. Veron's voice died down. "But... The..." Veron didn't want to say the Soldier's name, so he came up with an alternative. "Bonehead sent his partner to check up on him." Ramses let out a frustrated growl, but his helper burst out laughing.

. Ramses turned and set his eyes on him. "Have you heard from the sisters?" he asked. Thoth shook his head. "No, they're not very cooperative, as you already know."

"How much do they remember?" Ramses asked. "From what I could see," Thoth said. "They know the most out of the others, so far. But they still don't know too much." Ramses growled.

"Manipulation may have to be put in order if we're to make a successful attack!" he growled. Thoth nodded. "I will go and try to talk to them. I'm sure they'll listen to me."

"If you live long enough...!"

The party turned at the sound of the new voice, and there, in the shadows, stood Duskur. Thoth carefully raised his staff. "You must be..."

"The Bonehead!" Duskur finished as he readied his Scythe. Thoth stepped forward and readied his staff as it started to glow bright blue. "Your life is at risk now, Soldier. I'd flee now while you have the chance." Duskur laughed. "Is that a challenge?" he asked as his scythe grew longer. In answer, Thoth threw off his robe, revealing Neo-Soldier armor. The energy lines lit up as an bird-like helmet folded onto his face. "Indeed!" he said, his voice now hollow and metallic.

Thoth knew from experience that it was best to let the opponent attack first, but the situation had become desperate. Thoth charged forward and swiped his staff, but Duskur simply leaned away from each attack. Thoth was able to land a blow on Duskur's chest that sent him hurtling into a pillar of rock. Duskur rose to his feet, his energy lines glowing brighter.

"Fine..." he hissed. He threw off his robe, revealing the armor underneath. Skeletal armor crawled about his body, a spine crawling down his back, a rib-cage around his chest, and two glaring, gaping skulls placed on his shoulders, accompanied by two barbs sticking out of the sides of his arms. Two black blades rested folded on his back. His head was the most unsettling. Though perhaps human underneath, the helmet was far from it. A twisted skull with a gaping, fang filled mouth, cracks and scars running about the sides of his angled eyes, and a small piece of iridescent, semi-transparent material that covered the top of his skull, covering a cracked surface. A small, withered ponytail drooped out from the back."Let's play!"

Thoth charged again, but was evaded almost effortlessly by Duskur, who was surprisingly nimble and lanky. His hands almost reached to his knees like this, and that dangerously increased the range of his scythe. Thoth jumped back and held up his staff. The staff charged with energy, and Thoth hurled blasts at the lanky spectre. Duskur was only struck a few times. Now it was his turn to attack.

Duskur jumped forward and made a wild sweep with his scythe, scathing Thoth's arm. Duskur rolled behind the warrior and used his skinny legs to kick him to the ground. Duskur jumped unto Thoth and started striking him the blunts of his scythe, laughing and hissing.

… …!

Duskur found himself flying away again, and just as he broke his fall, he was rushed by Ramses. Ramses still wore his robe, but made no effort to hide his face anymore. Duskur kicked himself upright and slashed at the strange warrior, but Ramses easily deflected each blow. Duskur reared back and tried to land a punch, but in an instant he found himself inside Ramses' crushing grip.

"Don't struggle..." Ramses breathed as he tightened his grip. Dusur wailed and flailed, but Ramses' grip would not release. Finally, Duskur erected the two blades on his back, slicing Ramses' armor. Duskur leapt into the sky, and the blades started glowing as he hovered to another spot.

"Those were wings?!" Veron asked. Big mistake. Duskur set his sights on Veron and dashed for him, his scythe ready to slice. Veron didn't have the time to run. But the moment Duskur's attack struck home, Ramses blocked Duskur's swipe and threw him into a pillar. Ramses kneeled down to Veron.

"Go!" he whispered. "Find the sisters! Find Oracle!" Veron was speechless. "W-what about the other members? Aren't I supposed to..."

…...!

Veron found himself miles away, with Ramses still in front of him. "I'm not asking, I'm Telling!" Ramses roared. He stood up, and the next instant, he was gone. Veron stood speechless. He felt useless, leaving his two comrades. But there was nothing he could do to combat that demon. He straightened himself and ran. _Lord.._. _please protect those two..._


	5. Chapter 4: Helpless

**Helpless**

Two lone scavengers carefully made their way into the dark, dry cave. The Cave was small, and had a smell that was so dry it hurt your nostrils to breathe, and it stunk of the creatures that had wandered in and never came out.

There were two scavengers. One was large, well built and bristly, while the other was much younger, skinnier, and considerably less hairy. They both carried lights and carried a rope. One end was at the mouth of the cave. They both hung unto the rop, lest they lose each other. Their bags were lightly packed with only food and tools, and their attire was rugged. They wore Soldier-like armor, and they lacked the cloaks of the colonies, instead they wore a heavy, bullet proof vest, of course in a world run by Matrix Drones, bulletproof didn't matter much.

They were unimportant, in both life and profession. They were poor to colony standards, and had few weapons. But their intents and ideals were poorer and more empty than anything they had, and their very presence was an insult to the righteous, and therefore their names are unimportant.

"S-sir... this cave could be crawling with them..." the smaller one whispered. In a cave that reverberated sound so clearly, talking normally would be a mistake.

"Cram it! Why do you think this place was so tough to find? There's something special in here, and we're gonna find it!" the bulky one said with a smile that was short a few teeth.

"But this is already our third trip, what if they find us?"

"Don't worry about it, trust me. It's not like they can hide in this dark place!"

The two continued. To a person from the cities, they wouldn't have noticed a difference in a cave, if it's dark and quiet, then it's all the same. But to people who have been living in the dry wastelands for so long, they noticed something. The air was getting moist. Their footsteps became softer. The sides of the cave were getting slippery. Their hearts beat faster. And then they saw it.

"Light!" the smaller one cried, and the echoes made his partner nearly lose his hearing.

"Kuh-wiet!" The bulky one growled. "...C'mon!"

The room they found was huge. It was lit up by a strange light. Strange wondrous markings flickered across the walls.

"Sir, I've only seen this when I hold something above a cup of water, then that means...?" His partner cackled. He pointed to a small hole in one corner where the light was coming from. He took out his gun and started hitting the hole with the end of his rifle. The sound was very loud in the cave, and if anyone else was down there, they would've heard it. Finally the wall crumbled away, and a whole beam of light shot out. The two shielded their eyes, but the bulky one crawled through the larger hole, and his partner reluctantly followed, albeit bumping his head since he couldn't see in the process.

When his eyes finally adjusted, he found himself look at a crystal clear pool. He lost feeling in his legs.

"A spring...!" he gasped. "Water!" The bulky one laughed and dropped all his equipment and ran to the side of the pool. He ran his fingers through the liquid and wiped his face.

"I never thought I'd see this much water for as long as I lived!" the small one said. "Now nobody will be thirsty!" His partner let out a nervous chuckle.

"Now then, about that," he said slowly. "Why don't we keep this to ourselves?" The small one was confused, but before he could ask, his partner started taking out containers and filling them up with water.

"What are you doing...?" he asked.

"Think about it! All the water we could ever ask for! We wouldn't need to listen to anyone ever again to get our fill! We could get our food elsewhere and stay here for the rest!" The small one was overwhelmed. "We could sell it! We could be rich! We could scrape all the money they have left, and we'll be like kings!"

"But... what about our village?" the small one asked. "What about our boss? What will he think?"

"He doesn't have to know! We don't need to say anything!"

"But what about the others at camp? The kids could really use this..." the bulky one hit the water with his fists.

"Don't you get all Noble on me! You think I wanna worry about those whiners and their brats for the rest of my life?!" he shouted. "Of course not! Now come on! Help me fill these up before we won't even get any!" The small one reluctantly obeyed. They stuffed their containers to the brim with water. They tried to fill their bags with water. The bulky one got bored after a bit, so he shoved his partner into the pool. The small one burst to the surface kicking and choking.

"I don't like this man! Let me out!" he cried. The bulky one pulled him out and lay him beside himself. The small one curled up and shivered. He didn't like it. He was only used to heat and slow uncomfort. With this cold water, he was cold all at once and it almost hurt. Something shimmered in the water. The small one watched as the shimmer moved back to the depths of the crystal clear pond. He carefully reached into the water and groped for it, and what he found was a small piece of metal with words scratched in it...

_Dining consistorio exsulem_

_~MATRIX~_

The small one dropped the shard.

"Why don't we get out of here, this place is creepy..." the smaller one said.

"Don't go superstitious on me, too!" the brute said. "Or you won't get any. Speaking of which..." The brute cupped his hands, scooped some water and drank. He let out a satisfied sigh. "Best I've ever tasted!" he said with a clap. "This will sell before we even..." A small crackling sound broke out. The light in the room disappeared. The room was completely dark. A small light appeared in the center of the pond.

_"You..."_ a voice hissed._ "Have drunk from the forbidden fountain..."_ The brute fearfully rose to his feet. _"I can feel your souls through my water... your souls are filthy and reek of lies, tricks, and unfaithfulness. I like that. Those are all very... Tasty...!"_

The water started to bubble and churn. The two fearfully backed away, and the brute grabbed his gun. A wicked shape rose from the water. His head was framed with fins and sharp fangs. His small needle-like teeth drooled the water as it rose. Its small beady eyes were pure green and glowed. His body was metallic and streamlined.

"I'm not taking this!" the brute said as he opened fire. The creature held out his hand and grabbed the bullets from the air. The small one fell on his back and tried to struggle away.

A tentacle rose from the water and wrapped around the brute's leg and started to pull him into the water. He screamed and kicked as he was dragged from the bed and into the depths. His partner was too scared to save him. The creature hissed.

_"Time... to eat!"_ it squealed as it returned to the depths. The smaller one tried to run, but he was caught too, and was dragged under the water.

* * *

Laughter filled the air. In celebration of the safe return of the Pack, as they were called, the camp was preparing a welcoming feast. A large tent was set up in the middle of camp, and everyone got together. The men did all the building and setting everything up, while the women did all the cooking. They talked, they laughed, and it was all very confusing, for one without memories.

Storm sat in the shade of a tree next to his bike the whole time. He decided not to get involved. He was carefully thinking over to himself how or when he was going to leave the camp and continue on his way. But where would he go? This camp seemed to be the only source of information about the world around him, but with so much happening, he felt like a bother to ask. As the sun started its course into evening, Teru found Storm under the tree.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing, just..." Storm had a hard time answering. "Trying to stay out of the way."

"Out of the way of what?" Teru asked. "The guys want to meet you."

"Me? What would they want with me?"

"They heard about the scorpion, and they have questions to ask!" Questions. Of all things, Storm wasn't in the mood for questions. He wanted answers.

"Sorry," Storm said as he rose to his feet. "I need some time alone. I'll be back." He took his sword from his bike and started away from the camp. "Keep that guy away from my bike," Storm said as he left. Teru sighed and kicked at the dust._ He has plans too, I guess,_ he decided. Teru turned and walked over to the bike, but just then, he walked into a member of the Pack who was also passing by and fell to the ground.

"Watch it!" the person said as he passed by. Teru stood up and dusted himself off, muttering something to himself about angry jerks who can't forget stuff, like the Pack member.

* * *

Storm made a respectable distance from the establishment and started to pace. He was really only used to talking to one person at a time, but talking to a whole group of them made him uncertain. He had only a day's worth of understanding, and the idea of messing up in front of people was rather embarrassing. He somewhat liked his first day when he didn't have to worry about other meeting other people, but then he remembered the loneliness he felt when he was alone in the ruins._ Guess I can't pick these situations, he thought to himself. Can't exactly run from them, either. I'll just have to take it as it comes._

Storm flinched at the sound of a gunshot. He looked around him, searching for any source of the noise, when it went off again. He noticed a trail of smoke, not easy to see through his shades, and followed it. He found a small formation of rocks with several smaller rocks placed around it. A lone gunman was aiming at one of the small rocks. Storm recognized him from the jeep that arrived earlier as one of the Pack members. Storm arrived at the person's west, and that apparently threw him off. The member turned around and aimed the gun, but froze.

"...Jeez, you could get shot when you do that," the member said as he lowered his gun. He wore gray clothing with a large vest with several pockets on it, Storm assumed these were for ammunition, and his belt had a holster in it. "Get behind me before you nearly get hit again!" the member snapped. Storm quietly obeyed. The member resumed his position and fired at the rocks. The bullets struck right where he aimed, and the rocks had the holes to show it. The man cocked the gun and took out the bullet pack.

"First clip..." he muttered to himself as he replaced the ammo.

"Target practice?" Storm asked. The member chuckled.

"No, I'm killing rocks for no reason." he said. Storm frowned, he didn't think he liked this person's sense of humor. The member took aim and fired again, and one by one he hit his targets. "Can't get rusty out here. Lose your touch just once and they'll be on top of you. Doubt you'd know that though."

"Try me," Storm said rather irritated. The man looked back at Storm.

"You a scavenger?" he asked. Storm nodded. "Haven't seen you, exploring from home or somethin'?"

"I don't have one, I only stay when I have to." Storm said. The member looked unimpressed.

"Don't see your gun."

"I don't need one." Storm said.

"Is that so?" the man asked. He took his gun and shot the row of rocks once more, and reloaded his gun.

"If you can't do that, you're not gonna make it out here." he said. He tossed the gun to Storm. "Let's see what you got." Storm took the man's place and aimed at the rocks. He fired, and he struck the rock, but the bullet bounced. The member smiled. "Don't need one?" he asked. "Try again. I imagine them as Drone heads, that helps me focus." Storm frowned. He didn't think he liked this person's ideals, either. He aimed at the rocks once more, and concentrated, not on drones, but on simple accuracy. He shot the rocks one by one, much quicker than the member. He reset his stance and did it again, even quicker. The member frowned and tsked.

He walked over and snatched the gun.

"Not bad," he admitted. "...for a vagabond." Storm never heard the word before, but he knew what it meant and was quite irritated. "Guess that draws the line," the member said as he put his gun up. "If I were you, I'd stay away from the camp. They don't like vagabonds that much."

The man left, and Storm stayed at the site, quietly sorting through his frustration. That person was either really proud or really miserable to put other people down like that, or he simply didn't like people of Storm's kind. He hoped that was the last he'd see of people like that.

* * *

Teru's mother walked around the entrance to the camp, looking for Storm, but couldn't find him. She saw little Teru with Storm's bike, tying it to the withered tree with a rope. She walked over.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Teru just finished tying the stubborn knot and sat down.

"Storm asked me to look after this, so I roped it up in case uncle came by again," Teru explained. His mother smiled and covered her face to hide a laugh.

"Where is Storm, anyway?" she asked. Teru shrugged.

"He went out for a walk or something, but he said he'd come back." His mother nodded and looked around. She saw one of the members walk back to the camp. Teru frowned and held his ground while his mother ran to meet him.

"Cord, have you seen a visitor around while you were out?" she asked. Cord shrugged and stretched his arms.

"You mean he's welcome here? Yeah, I saw him," he said rather absentmindedly. The lady didn't like the answer that much. "Weird looking guy, that one," Cord added. "What's a guy gotta do to come out like that?"

"You weren't much different when you came, did that change anything when we took you in?" She said. Cord looked offended.

"You say that as if he's staying," he said angrily. "Is he really?" She nodded.

"Yes, I've talked with Abir and the leaders, he's welcome to the feast." Cord dropped his arms and groaned.

"Great, just great. Sooner or later we're gonna welcome every little rat that walks in here...!" he mumbled as he continued on his way.

"Like we did for you?" Teru's mother called after him. Cord just waved his hand. She angrily turned away from him and walked back to Teru.

"Didn't listen, did he?" Teru asked. His mother shook her head.

"He never does. Do you want to go see Caden?" she asked. Teru thought a bit, and decided that the rope would hold the bike, and went with his mother.

* * *

"Quite a find, you got there," the old man said as he looked at the list the Pack leader had given him. "Lots of food, preserved I hope?" he asked. The other two men in the tent laughed. The leader nodded.

"All preserved, all packaged, and all uncompromised. Should last us a good while if the crops don't do well."

The tent door flapped open as one of the members walked in. One of the men sat on a stool with his bandaged arm.

"Get enough practice, Cord?" he asked. Cord sighed.

"Yeah, I guess," he said as he sat down in a chair and took off his holster. The older man noticed the gun.

"Oh and er... kinda iffy question here," he said as he looked over the list. "Did you find any extra ammo?"

"That place must've been a factory, we couldn't bring enough!" another member said.

"But we decided to take less to make more room for the food," the leader added.

"Right...Right..." the old man said as he started checking of the list and doing some quick calculations.

"Let's see... ten pounds... that's a five... every extra's one and a half... let's see..." The old man bit his pencil as he thought for a moment. "Er... Caden, how much clothestuff did you find?" he asked. Caden, the dark haired one, was trying to flex his hurt arm but a sudden jolt of pain made him quit.

"Lost count..." he forced out.

"About four box's worth, sir." Cord answered.

"Thank you..." the man said as he went back to the list. "And that'll be... how much did you want to keep for yourself, Abir?"

The tall brown-haired man shrugged.

"Probably only a box of each, we don't need that much really," he said. The man nodded.

"Alright... that'll be... two dollars... and ninety five cents," he said as he tore out the sheet and set it down. Cord tsked.

"Kinda low..." he grumbled. "Doesn't staring at a Drone right in the eye and living give us a bonus?" he asked.

"Yes," Abir said. "But we don't need one." Cord angrily slumped into his seat. The old man took out a large container from his desk, unlocked it, took out the coins and handed them to Abir.

"Keep the change," he said. Abir closed his fist and nodded. "Thank you, Abiram." he said. The old man smiled and went to his desk.

"Who's the money-holder now?" Abir asked. Everyone raised their hands, except Caden, whose hand couldn't move. "That's what I thought," Abir said. "Caden takes care of it." The others sighed and sank into their seats.

The tent flapped open again, and Teru and his mother walked in.

"Good afternoon Ma'am, Teru," Abir said with a smile. "Where's our new friend? Expected to see him with you." Teru's mother shook her head.

"He's not ready yet. We have to give him a bit," she said. Teru ran over to Caden.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked. Caden sighed.

"I'll use it again, that's for sure. I'll be fine," he said.

"Not without proper treatment you won't," the lady said. "I'm going to have to look at that arm later." Caden lowered his head.

"Oh Joy..." he said as enthusiastically as he could. The other members laughed. "Say... What's your new friend up to?" Caden asked.

"Well... he's feeling uncomfortable, I guess. He's still not used to so many people," Teru said.

"What kinda guy can't stand so much people?" Cord asked. "A sociophobic?"

"Yes, that kind of guy would, but he's not a phobic," Teru's mom said.

"He can't remember stuff, that's why," Teru said. His mother cleared her throat and put her hand firmly on her son's shoulder.

"Not so hastily, Teru..." she mumbled. Cord laughed.

"An Amnesiac who can talk and handle a weapon? Likely story! Sounds like a scavenger's trick to find a nest!" he said as he left the tent. Teru sighed. It did sound a little strange, but after what he saw, he was sure of it. Abiram cleared his throat.

"If it's all the same to you," he said. "Why don't you get going and help with preparations? I have work to do."

* * *

Storm walked back to the camp after nearly an hour of staring at those rocks and thinking about the characters he may meet._ Maybe they'll get suspicious..._ he thought. _I'll keep things simple. They don't have to know too much about my sword, or the Scorpion. I'll keep other things simple too, no need to waste everyone's time._ He looked at his bike and saw that Teru was gone. He was a bit confused, but then he saw the rope Teru had tied to it. Storm realized the purpose of the rope and found himself a bit amused. _That's probably the only thing that'll keep that other man away.._. he thought to himself.

He looked around and decided to go find Teru, or his mother for that matter. Perhaps he could help with something. So he started into the camp for real, and there were people everywhere, working, and every so often sneaking a glance at him as he passed. Storm decided to think nothing of it.

Somebody passed by and hit him with his shoulder.

"Watch it," the person snapped as he turned around, and Storm recognized him.

"You're..." Storm began, but was interrupted.

"You two!" a man called. "Help us set this post up!" Storm and the member from earlier were called to help set up a post for the tent. The two looked at each other, but went to do the work. The post was long and heavy, and was very rough and solid. Probably a piece of petrified wood since all the living wood is out of the region. The member offered to hold one end while Storm helped push the post upwards, but their instructor seemed to feel safer with Storm at the center. So Storm held unto one end and waited as the member and another man pushed the pole upwards. Storm slowly straightened the pole as it got higher, but after a moment found that the task was nothing at all, and all strain on his arms was nonexistent. He drove the end into a hole in the ground and some other men fastened it down.

"Much obliged!" the man said as he continued his work. Storm looked back at the member from earlier, and decided to get formal rather than harbor any animosity.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"You don't know?" the member asked. "You're definitely not from around here!" Storm frowned. Any animosity he discarded returned. "Cord, of the Pack? Best Sniper not dead, sure you haven't heard of me?" he asked.

"Quite sure," Storm answered. Cord smiled.

"Oh wait... that's right. You can't remember anything, at least so you say." Cord said as he went on his way. Storm frowned, but remembered what Teru's mother had said the other day; 'A little too good to be true,' that he was such a good fighter but couldn't remember anything? It did sound like a potentially deceptive story, and this man wasn't going to show any sign of compassion, it seemed. Time alone he decided was all he needed.

* * *

By evening, the whole camp was bustling. The Tent was finally complete, and people were already walking inside, and the warm aroma of food was in the air.

Storm observed that a great welcome feast of sorts was being prepared for the returning travellers. For some reason, the setup seemed old-fashioned, but Storm couldn't find the words to describe it.

But the isolation Storm felt took away some of his fascination. He felt like an invisible onlooker to the life around him. That one man, Cord, still bothered him. He was just readily either so boastful or hateful, it confused him.

"Hey!" Storm turned back to one of the jeeps, one of the men was there. "Could you help me with this?" the man called. Storm hesitated. "Red guy! Come on!" Convinced the calling was for him, Storm awkwardly walked to the jeep. The man was unloading the last bit of crates, and apparently needed help. "Here, I'll grab one, then you take it and set it down," the man said. Storm obeyed and took each crate that was passed to him and set them down next to the jeep. In only a minute the task was done, much to the man's surprise. "That was fast, you could carry those things without thinking about it!" he said as he sat down on one of the crates. "Haven't seen you around, you new here?" he asked.

"I was invited here." Storm answered.  
"Just passing through?" the man asked. Storm took the meaning of the term and nodded. The man held out his hand to shake. "Name's Abir, what's yours?" Storm cautiously shook the hand.

"Storm," he answered quietly. The man smiled. "You're the one Teru's ma talked about!" he said. "You were able to take down a Matrix mech on your own?" he asked. Storm nodded.

"That's great! We could use a guy like you! Things are getting rougher around here, and an extra hand couldn't hurt." Storm didn't know what to say. Conversation was still new to him. Abir noticed his uncomfortableness. "That's okay! We can talk at the meal, plenty of time to talk there!"

"The meal?" Storm asked.

"Yeah, a welcoming party, so to speak!" Abir said. "You've seen the tent right? That's the mess hall we'll go to!"

"Hall...?" Storm asked. "It's a tent." That made Abir laugh, but his laughter slowed down as he realized something.

"Oh... right. Chea said you can't remember stuff, so no wonder. Sorry, shouldn't have laughed like that," Abir said.

"No, it's fine." Storm said. Abir sighed.

"Well I'm glad you're not half-like what Cord makes you sound like! You've met him already haven't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I have." Storm said rather angrily.

"Yeah... sorry about that. He's a nice guy, really. He's just..."

"Proud," Storm finished. Abir paused, but nodded his head.

"Yep, that's the word for it." he said. "So... whaddya say about joining?" he asked.

"Join the pack?" Storm asked. "Why... I mean... when?" Abir just smiled.

"Whenever you're ready, I mean, no need to get confused." Abir said. Storm started to like conversation, and was able to continue a few more with Abir, developing his skills and learning more about the pack.

A small bell tolled in the distance. Abir clapped his hands. "Din time! C'mon, I'll get you a spot!" Before Storm could say anything, he was led away towards the large tent that was set up. "They got the mess hall going even bigger this time!" Abir said happily.

"...It's a tent," Storm thought to himself. Abir suddenly stopped.

"Woah..." he said. "You may wanna take that sword off." Storm nodded and ran back to his bike. He took off his sword and tied it as tightly as he could around the bike and then returned the Abir. On their way in, Storm noticed Cord at the entrance.

"You again?" he asked. "Sorry, outsiders aren't welcome..."

"Cool it, Cord, he's with me!" Abir said.

Storm followed his host into the large tent that was set up in the middle of camp. All of the camp members were present, and Storm estimated at least twenty or so were there, coupled with the small group that just returned. Abir pointed to an empty spot in the mat and motioned for Storm to sit down. As he made his way through, Storm heard whispers like 'Is that him?' 'Can he really not remember anything?' 'What if he's faking it?' Storm decided to ignore and sit down. He saw Teru and his mother, who smiled at him, and he Smiled back. After a bit the food was passed around, and when everyone had a plate, everyone bowed their heads, and Storm followed. A minute later, all heads were raised and the eating began. Storm awkwardly followed along, and as he had lived off of expired rations from an old settlement for the last day, he felt that this was the most wonderful meal he had in his life. Fresh bread, rice, soup, and some stir-fried meat was the least of the feast. Storm noticed the injured man from earlier was sitting in a stretcher next to Teru. His left arm had a bandage wrapped around it, and Teru's mother was at his side, vigorously working at any other injuries. But the man was surprisingly talkative, to Storm, anyway.

"Caden, what exactly happened?" Teru asked. The man, Caden let out a bit of a laugh.

"We were trying to see if we could scrape any more resources out of some ruins we found, but we ran into some drones." Teru's eyes lit up as he leaned closer to listen, along with the other kids in the room. "They came from all over the place! Out of buildings, out from under buildings, and some crawled right out of the ground! I swear, they're just left there to wake up and jump on people. More and more kept showing up. There were like ten of 'em at once! Cord of course had his fill of shooting them to pieces!" Storm noticed one member let out a huff and turn away.

"Caden!" one of the members called. "No need to exaggerate!" Caden shrugged.

"Yeah, you're right. It was a dozen!" Caden added. This garnered a laugh from the crowd. Caden laughed for a bit too, but it was cut off by a grunt of pain. He held the arm that was being bandaged. "Hey... easy Ma, it's not that bad!" he said. "No need to (ooh!) squeeze it!" Teru's mother didn't listen. "You can convince yourself you're fine, but that won't help a bullet wound!" she said as she started applying some medicine to get soaked in. "What were you hit with?" she asked. Caden shrugged. "Typical drone energy shot. Medium intensity. Nothing serious! I've had worse!"

"And nearly lost your arm!" the mother replied. The conversation died away, and another one started up.

"So, Abir?" one of the older men asked. "Why'd you stay out so long? You were gone almost a week." A wry smile crossed Abir's face. "Would you believe me," he said. "If we met a Neo-Soldier?"

The tent's liveliness died down in an instant, and Storm was immediately engrossed when he heard the word. Some image tried to make its way into his mind, but he shook it off to listen. "A real Neo-Soldier?!" another man asked. "What happened? What did he look like?"

"Why don't I tell things from the beginning? After we got all that stuff, we were going to see if we could get some more supplies, when somebody messed with a drone and got shot!" Caden rolled his eyes and looked away.

"So we had to stay out a little longer until the guy was well enough to move, but the moment we got ready, he showed up." The audience hushed and leaned forward. "He was wearing a robe, so we couldn't see who it was, at first. We thought he might've been a scavenger, so we got his attention..." Abir chuckled. "And we got it alright. The guy jumped at us and nearly shot us to pieces. His armor looked like a bright-blue bird, kinda. He didn't get any of us, but he shot a vehicle we found. That's why Ammar and his crew got a reasonable grab of scrap this trip. But the moment the dust cleared, he just left."

"What kinda Matrix guy would hit and run?" a man asked. Abir shook his head. "Either he wasn't in the mood, or he wanted us to keep away from something."

"What was it?" Teru asked eagerly. Caden laughed and patted the boy's shoulder with his good arm. "Why don't you go and ask him?" he asked. "I'm sure he's more than willing to listen." Teru shrank back a little.

Abir laughed, and so did the others. "Say, let's not steal all the fun! Hey, new guy, what's your..." Abir looked to his side. "...Story..." Storm was gone.

"Storm?" Teru asked. No answer.

"He probably slipped out when we weren't looking, he was pretty nervous," Abir said.

"About what?" Cord asked.

"Nothing that should concern you, hopefully," Caden replied.

"Why don't you handle it, Ma? You'll probably find the problem," Caden offered. Teru's mother nodded and carefully stepped her way out of the tent. When the door flapped shut, Caden let out a sigh of relief. "I was afraid she wouldn't stop working at my arm..." he mumbled, but made no act to conceal it. The people laughed at the joke.

* * *

Storm sat outside the tent, leaning against a withered tree. He took of his sunglasses to get a better look of the world around him. He stared at the horizon in the distance, thinking carefully about what the Pack had mentioned. Neo-Soldier... why do I hate that name...? he asked himself. It sounds so... scornful, and when I think of it... I feel... He flinched at the sounds of footsteps. He quickly put his glasses back on and looked behind. Teru's mother walked over. "Feeling left out?" she asked.

"Not... exactly." Storm muttered. "I just... this is only my second day, from what I can remember. I need some time to process everything." The lady nodded. "I've worked with one Amnesiac before, and he acted the same way." she said. Storm took this as a comfort, apparently he wasn't being too abnormal. "Have those guys been leaving a lot?" he asked. The lady nodded. "Yes, they grouped together to try and retrieve the stuff that was left behind after what the Matrix did, incase we aren't able to sustain ourselves."

"Teru really seems to like one of them," Storm commented. The lady smiled. "That's because he's his brother. He likes hearing about the adventures his brother has outside of camp."

"He wasn't inside the camp when he found me," Storm said.

"He... likes to wander off. He's always looking for excitement."

"Living in fear of those machines isn't exciting enough?" Storm asked. The lady laughed. "Apparently not for Teru." Storm was inclined to chuckle, and was a bit confused at the reaction. He didn't really understand humor yet, it seemed. The feeling died away, and Storm looked to the distance.

"T-Thank you," Storm forced out.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for letting me in, and helping with my problem. I... really don't know what's going on, and I appreciate the help." The Lady smiled.

"You don't need to thank me," she said. "It's what we do." Storm nodded, and then a question was brought to his mind.

"What is... your name?" he asked.

"Chea," she answered as she held out her hand. Storm awkwardly held out his hand, and she shook it.

"Do you have to stay out here?" Storm asked. Chea was confused. "Do you have to stay out here? Can't you find a new home, away from the Matrix?" Storm asked. Chea thought a bit.

"The Matrix has made it impossible for us to move. They want to keep us away from restarting a community. But... when you were talking about moving, You said that as if... you know something better than this." she said. "I know the Haven project was set up, and there are a few cities living normally, like Jericho, but they don't want to deal with people as far out as us..." Storm wasn't listening. At those two words, Haven and Jericho, his mind was taken away. Another memory was unlocked. _Towering buildings, bright lights, happy people, but then it turned night... and strange creatures appeared. Humanoid, they look like animals, and glowing lines cover their bodies. They attack people, but another one fights them off. A blue one... His name... I remember his name... Neowu..._

"Hey!" The call snapped Storm out of his vision. Abir walked over to the two. "There you are!" he said as he approached Storm. " 'Been looking for you! Everyone wants to hear how you got here!" Storm shook himself out of his daze. "T-talk? to all those...?"

"You aren't shy, are you?" Abir asked teasingly. Storm was hesitant. Why talk? What if I tell them everything, and they get suspicious? What if I have to leave? Abir reached down and pulled Storm up. "C'mon! I'm sure Teru would love to hear it!"

"...I don't want to talk, really..." Storm mumbled. Chea smiled.

"Actually, I think this may be an opportunity. If you give yourself a little review, you may remember something!" She said. Storm felt cornered.

"A-Alright, I guess." he said as he shook himself out of Abir's grip. He started for the tent with the two, but as they neared the entrance he moved back behind Abir.

* * *

Of course Storm was nervous. He had only just mastered the trade of conversation, and to tell a one sided story to a whole crowd of people... He didn't feel so good, and the sight of all the food set before him didn't help.

"It's probably no use, don't force him," Cord said with a mocking tone.

"Storm?" Teru asked. "Where do you first remember things?"

He finally gave in, and told things from the beginning, as vaguely as he could help it. If he was too precise, the older people might get suspicious, he decided. He told of his battle with the swarm of drones and the Drone that exploded. He told of his escape from the city and the scorpion, and nearly everyone was awed. Storm couldn't help but feel a little proud, but he kept his thoughts and his opinions hidden. Then people started asking questions.

"Did that Larger Drone have a gatling-gun arm?" a mechanic asked. "It had a multi-barreled gun that rotated as it fired," Storm answered. "Berserkers! They're using those again?!" the mechanic cried. "Probably not_ again_, they just must've thought whatever was going on was of high priority," An older man replied. "Speaking of which, why do you think the Matrix would go through so much trouble just to chase a single man?"

"I was hoping someone could tell me that," Storm admitted.

"They probably wanted something you had," one of the pack suggested. "That sword you have sure sounds fancy, why wouldn't they be interested?"

"But why would they want a weapon back?" a tinkerer asked. "I found that old Neo-Soldier shield and nobody came after it."

"It's not like you could actually use it. They probably figured it wouldn't be worth the trouble." Another man reasoned.

"But that guy sure could use it!" Caden called. "Plus, the only other reason would be if..." His voice died down. Everyone strained to hear what he had to say, but it sounded to Storm like the word was taboo. An older man nodded to Caden as if to permit the idea.

"The only other reason would be if they were after a Renegade." Dead silence fell. Abir tried to laugh. "How could this guy be a Renegade? If he really was, he would've done something when he was fighting those drones!"

"He didn't exactly tell us everything." The older man reasoned. "For all we know, he may not have told us anything that was the truth."

"Right," Cord said as he crossed his arms. "How do we know he didn't make all that up just to find a nest? You really can't trust lone scavengers like this!"

"Wait!" Teru's mom called. "He's an amnesiac! It would be unfair to treat him like that! Plus we're not even sure! We can't jump to conclusions! If we acted on suspicion then..."

"We'd be no better than the Matrix." Caden finished. This seemingly wrapped up the conversation. Besides a few random conversations, the rest of the dinner was quiet.

After dinner, all the food was put away, the mats and cushions were picked up and returned, and the tent was taken down. It was dark, and everyone returned to their homes, returning to their own business. Storm offered to help Teru and his mother to carry their share back to her tent, and he walked with the two back to their home.

"...Did you enjoy yourself?" Teru asked, who was carrying some pillows. Storm sighed.

"They went... fine I guess." he said. He decided against expressing how he felt with the accusation earlier. "But... what's wrong with that guy, Cord?" Storm managed to say.

"He's... seen the worst of things and hasn't taken it the right way, I guess," Chea said. "He's slow to trust people, I know, and we're sorry he gave you a hard time." Storm shook his head.

"That's fine, it's fine."

* * *

Storm placed down his load at the opening of their tent.

"Thank you for your help," Chea said with a smile. "Is there anything we could do for you?"

"I don't think so, what you've already told me has really helped, I don't think you owe me any more," Storm said, with a bit of exaggeration. He still didn't know a whole lot, and he still didn't know what was exactly going on, but he really didn't want to trouble them.

"Where will you sleep?" Teru asked. Storm paused, He never really thought of it.

"With my Bike, like last time," Storm said. Chea winced.

"You... sure?" she asked. "That sounds pretty... uncomfortable. We could put up a Tent for you, or something."

"No, that's alright, I'll be fine," he said. Chea wasn't convinced.

"Teru, run inside and get a spare blanket," she said. Teru nodded and ran inside. Storm sighed. Granted, the bike probably wasn't as warm as it was the night before, and the night would probably be a bit colder.

Teru ran back with a large and thick blanket and handed it to Storm.

"Y-You don't have to do this..." Storm said as he awkwardly took the blanket.

"No, but we want to," Chea said. Storm saw there was no way to avoid this.

"Ah... thank you," he said.

* * *

His vision finally returned. The ground around him was shattered and broken. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. He started cursing himself for getting knocked unconscious. **_Foolish as Icarus. Of course my move got intercepted. And now it's nearly daytime!_**Ramses pulled himself up and gathered his ripped robe. He scanned the terrain. There were energy marks and slices cut out of rocks as far as the eye could see. He snarled and reached for his staff. A moment passed, and Ramses was worried that he used more energy than he should have, but just a second later, the staff came hurtling towards his hand, and the figure swiped it out of the air. He still was concerned, and he checked his energy reserves. _**75%... How am I going to last like this?!**_Ramses tried to fashion his torn robe back into a hood, but the robe was ruined. He angrily threw it to his side and started following the trail of destruction.**_ If only I wasn't so careless...Thoth, your mission isn't completed, don't leave us yet!_**

Ramses' partner didn't disappoint him. He was alive and well, for the time being. He was beaten to a pulp, his armor was torn off, and his weapon was broken. Thoth didn't mind the pain, in fact his body was the least of his concern. What was agonizing was having to listen to a crazed Neo-Soldier hours on end. First comes the monologuing on how inferior you are for defecting, and how staying with the Matrix makes you a God and that you don't deserve it anymore, and then came the questions. Thoth didn't want to lie, so he had no choice but to play ignorant, or as he would put it; Stupid.

"I'll try one more time!" Duskur hissed. "Where are the rest of your lab rats?!"

"We don't keep lab rats."

"Don't act like an idiot! Where are the poor souls you chose for your project?"

"They're not poor, some of them may consider it an honor to have their lives back!"

"Enough!" Duskur raised his scythe and brought it down to Thoth's throat. The beaten warrior didn't flinch, in fact he didn't seem very scared at all, bored even.

"Yep, you'll probably get promoted after this. You may get raised to a Judge, your friend too. But then you'll never catch wind of the Ether." Thoth said with a yawn. Duskur cringed. If his human face was showing, his forehead veins would be pumping. He slowly lowered his scythe.

"Where is the Ether..." he whispered.

"Sorry, only Ramses knows."

"That is it! Die, wretch!" Ramses raised his scythe into the air. "Heh... Just wait till Ramses sees your bloody mess on the ground! He won't be able to resist coming into our claws!" Thoth just shrugged and closed his eyes. Duskur hissed and nearly brought down the blade, when he felt a presence. He looked to the distance and saw the figure of Ramses against the rising Sun, coming towards him. "Speak of the devil...!" Duskur growled. He shut off his energy and dashed away. Thoth looked up and watched the demon tear away. Thoth chuckled to himself and carefully laid himself back down.

In just a moment, Ramses was at his comrade's side. "Sorry, sir, I should've held out longer," Thoth said quietly. Ramses snarled. "We took the situation for granted. Two of us were brought down by a simple Devilkin, this may prove more dangerous than I perceived."

"The only mistake we made was to think he'd play fair." Thoth said. Ramses nodded. "You sent Veron for the sisters, righ? Let me help him!" Thoth said as he tried to get up, but Ramses forced him back down. "But they already know me, and if they see someone they don't know..." Ramses' hand started to glow a gentle blue color. Ramses slowly moved his bulky hand over Thoth's wounds, and they began to fade away. When the healing was done, Ramses picked Thoth up and started to carry him away.

"But Veron..." Thoth mumbled, exhausted.

"Will be fine." Ramses said. "I'm not one to believe in luck, but fortune seems to smile on that man. I believe he will be alright. Now quickly, we need to find a plant for you to recharge."

"Sir, what will we do when our mission here is done?" Thoth asked. Ramses frowned.

"The next step to preventing the beast, Lycaon from coming into being... That is all you need to know."

* * *

**_You don't belong here..._**Storm awoke. He was leaning against his bike like he did the night before. He paused and shook his head. He thought he heard a voice. _**You endanger these people with your presence!**_Storm couldn't ignore it. Someone was speaking. He looked around, but no one seemed to be present. He sighed and tried to go back to sleep. **_Flee... there will be evil... you will be accused... You will have no hope...!_**Storm tried not to listen, but the words bit at him. He caught himself nearly rising to his feet. He stopped himself and tried to go to sleep. _**Do you wish for harm? Do you wish for turmoil?! Evil heads your way, will you face it and be prosecuted, or flee? **_Storm held his head and tried to ignore it. **_Very well... be attacked!_** A large tremor hit the camp as something hit the ground. Storm rose to his feet. People rushed out of their tents and looked around.

"Over there!" Someone called. Storm ran over and saw Chea, Teru, and nearly everyone he recognized at the dinner standing outside, watching a purple glow rush towards the camp.

"It's a drone!" somebody shouted. People started rushing back into their tents, though they knew it would do them no good if the Drone would spot them.

"Everyone back inside! Quickly! Before it sees us!" Abiram shouted. Everyone scrambled back into their dwellings.

"What about Storm?" Teru asked.

"He'll come inside with us!" Chea said. As they ran by, Chea pulled Storm and took him back to their dwelling. The doors were shut and any lamps were put out. Everything was quiet.

"What's going on?" Storm whispered.

"We have to stay inside..." Chea whispered back. "If a Drone sees any of us, it'll attack."

Heavy footsteps thundered in the distance, getting closer to the camp. The footsteps eventually slowed down and went into a slow trot. An eerie lavender light shone into the tents. The glow passed Chea's dwelling. Slow, mechanical breathing huffed as the unknown figure passed. Teru backed into his mother who took him in her arms. The creature outside seemed to lose interest and walked away, but then it let out a sniff. A moment later everyone cringed at a crashing sound.

"My bike...!" Storm whispered. "It found my sword!" Storm had left it behind, fearing that keeping it at such a time would provoke people. The creature started scraping at something, and then let out a triumphant howl. It started sniffing, very loudly, like some kind of animal. It went in one direction, and then returned. It started sniffing in another direction, but returned. It walked towards the tent and started to sniff. Storm held his breath and clenched his fists. The creature walked away again. It started sniffing around the other tents. It found nothing. It started moving down deeper into the camp.

Storm carefully peeked outside, and saw his bike on its side, thankfully undamaged, with his sword scabbard lying a good deal away, scraped at and ripped. Storm looked back at Chea.

"It probably wants me," he whispered.

"No...!" Teru said. "It can't!" Chea hushed her child and looked at Storm with dire eyes.

"What will you do...?" she asked. Storm hesitated.

"I'm going to try and go lead it away." Teru's eyes widened. Chea looked down at her son and let out a sigh.

"Go on," she whispered. Storm carefully stepped out of the tent. The creature still didn't hear him. He stepped towards his sword and picked it up. The creature didn't notice. He took his bike and carefully straightened it. The creature let out a sniff and started in Storm's direction. Storm pulled his bike into a clear spot. He got on and started it up. The creature dashed at full speed when it heard the engine. It jumped into the air and landed right in front of Storm.

The drone was sleek and spiked, it had long forearms with long claws sticking out the front, and spikes sticking out of its back. It's head looked something like a wolf, with a mane that glowed like the lavender energy lines that covered its body. The Wolf snarled.

"C'mon!" Storm shouted as he drove off. The Wolf pursued at full speed. Everyone carefully walked out of their tents. The pack assembled at the front of camp where Storm's bike used to rest.

"A Wolf... he's leading it away...!" Abir said.

"...Should we help?" a member asked. Cord snorted.

"Why should we? He's an outsider, and we're better off letting him lead it away." he said as he crossed his arms.

"Fair enough," Abir said as he started for a jeep. "Cord's not coming." he said. Cord froze.

"How's that...?"

"Tollak, Randel, Mark, come with me! The rest stay and take care of the camp!" Abir said. The other members quickly grabbed their weapons and jumped into the jeep.

"B-but what about me?" Caden called.

"Go take care of your ma, or somethin'!" Abir said as he started up the jeep and drove away. Caden sighed and sat down. Cord let out a huff.

"They'll regret leaving me!" he mumbled.

* * *

Storm slashed at the Wolf with his sword whenever it got close, and that happened a lot. It always would charge, make an attack, and then let itself fall behind, and then charge and do the same thing. Storm managed to land a blow in its head which sent it toppling over, thankfully making it lose some reach. Storm circled around and came back with his sword ready. The Wolf jumped up and landed behind Storm. Storm had no time to react before the Wolf charged and swiped at his bike. It struck the engine and made it shoot sparks. Storm lost control of the Bike. He tried to turn it in a direction, but he couldn't make it move. He jumped off the bike and rolled to the ground. The bike fell on its side and skidded to a stop and crashed into a rock.

Storm quickly jumped to his feet and turned to face the wolf. The wolf let out a snarl and started to close in. As it got close, it lifted its hindlegs. Its chest started to shift backwards and hunch over. Its shoulders were pulled to the top of its back. Its spikes grew longer. Its mane split into two different pieces and its fangs grew longer. It let out a howl and ran at Storm.

Storm readied his sword and took a defensive position. The Wolf's claws grew longer and it started taking slashes at Storm, who was able to deflect them with his sword. Storm jumped to the side and sliced the Wolf's side. The Wolf yelped and leapt back. Its back started to bleed. The wolf bared its fangs and jumped into the air. Storm held out his sword and prepared to deflect the impact, just as it anticipated.

The Wolf hit Storm's hands, making him lose his grip, and smacked him away with its other arm. Storm flew and hit the ground. His sword was too far for him to retrieve. He got to his feet and looked around for anything that may be able to protect him. The Wolf took the sword into its mouth and flung it farther away. Storm frowned. The sword was the only source of protection he had. He didn't know of anything else he could do. The Wolf wouldn't let him think any longer and ran at him.

Storm tried to evade its attacks, but was hit with its bulky paws more times than he could handle. The Wolf struck him to the ground. It readied its claw and struck Storm's back. Storm shouted in pain and tried to get up and run, but the Wolf hit him down again. Storm frowned and tried to think of a way to attack before the Wolf made a critical attack.

The Wolf raised its claws, and Storm braced himself, but then something happened. Without even thinking, he rolled around, and regardless of the pain in his back, punched the Wolf in the chest.

Any other blow and the Wolf wouldn't have even noticed, but when Storm struck, strange red energy appeared as he struck its armor. The Wolf was surprised and jumped back. Storm carefully rose to his feet. He was just as confused as the Wolf was. Suddenly everything became bright. The Wolf covered its eyes and looked behind it. They had been caught in the light of the headlights of one of the Jeeps.

"Storm!" Abir shouted. The Wolf snarled and tried to slash at the vehicle, but then remembered Storm. It turned around to face him, but Storm was right behind it and punched it in the face. The Wolf struck the ground.

"Storm, get back!" Storm obeyed and the Pack opened fire on the wolf. Energy circuits were ruptured and its armor was penetrated. The Wolf struggled under the fire and shuffled to its feet. But then one of its energy lines ruptured. Energy spurted from its wound as it fell to the ground, lifeless. Storm stumbled over to the jeep.

"Why did you follow me?" Storm asked.

"You think you could handle that thing on your own?" Abir asked as he stepped outside.

"I never thought I would handle it," Storm said. Abir looked at Storm's back.

"We better get you back to camp, that looks pretty bad." Storm felt his back and drew back a bloody hand.

"...Yeah, sure," he said. Abir got back into the driver seat and Storm was going to climb in, when he heard the Wolf snarl. He turned around just in time as the Wolf mustered its strength and jumped at him. Storm had no time to run, and was struck in the head by the Wolf. And then everything went dark.

* * *

A small robed figure followed the long trail of rope. It lead into a large cave with a large crystal pool. There were some emptied bags lying around, and the sandy bed was scraped and kicked at, implying a struggle, though the gentle waves from the pool were slowly reshaping the sand and making it as if the marks from before were never there. The small figure carefully stalked back and forth around the border of the pool. After a bit, it kicked a rock in, and nothing happened. It kicked in another in, and still nothing happened. So the figure reached out and touched the water, and the room went dark.

_...So... filthy... Deceitful, power hungry, but just a trace of compassion... Only slightly intricate... but rare... almost too good to be true!_

The figure waited and nothing happened, until the water started to churn. A tentacle snaked around its wrist and pulled it under. The pool was very deep, several times deeper than the figure was tall. In the blurred underwater vision, it saw the demonic figure of who it was looking for.

_"What a find..._" the creature hissed. _"Yes... what a find! Hold still, pretty one. This will only take a moment...!"_

But then something strange happened. The green glow in the water was overwhelmed by a red light, the creature's hold with the tentacle was undone, and it found itself getting flung away in one direction. It finally struck the side of the pool and tried to focus its eyes on its opponent. Even for its eyes, trained to handle underwater conditions, could barely make out the opposing figure, but his opponent was obviously some kind of Neo-Soldier, a terribly long one at that.

_"You touched my sacred basin... you must pay the price...!"_ the creature made its body rigid and jetted for its opponent. It readied its claws and started swiping at it, but the opponent was long enough to evade nearly every attack with general ease. The creature was grabbed and thrown into another wall, and then found itself being pulled towards the current that lead out of the pool. It reached out with its tentacles and snaked around its opponent, and heaved it into the current. It tried to jet away, deciding the prey wasn't worth it, but it found that it had made a terrible mistake with using its tentacles, now its opponent could pull him along with it. Actually it just discovered this when it felt itself getting pulled away. It dug its claws into the bed of the pool, but the tough rock was too hard to carve, and it was dragged into the current and down a shaft.

In the total darkness of the water-tunnel, the only guide the creature had to its prey was its red energy lines. The creature shut off its power and disappeared into the current. The opposer looked everywhere, visibly distraught over losing track of its enemy. The creature swam ahead of the opposer and stationed itself, waiting for the prey to come closer. Finally the creature reactivated its energy and clutched the opponent. It bared its fangs and dug into the opponent's neck.

The opponent went limp as its energy and very life was sapped away. The creature savored its meal and went as slowly as it could. But then something began to press against it. Two large blades erected on the opponent's back and dug into the creature's chest. The creature released all of its hold and went tumbling down the shaft.

Light finally shone again, and it blinded the creature for a moment. It managed to look ahead and notice that the shaft lead to the waterfall, and started to push itself upstream, but then it saw its opponent rushing towards him, leaving a trail of red behind it as it came. It held out its claws to brace itself as the opponent crashed into it, shoving them both down the current, and into the torrential downpour. For a few brief seconds all they felt beneath them was the air.

The two figures struck the solid ground, which the creature hated. It pulled itself away and took back its tentacle, and gasped at the sight of his victim. A dirty chrome-colored Neo-Solder, with many black pieces of armor complementing its skeletal appearance, and two energized wings on its back returned to their resting places.

"Why... Why it's Duskur!" the creature gasped. "Of course, only your soul could be so bittersweet... nothing like my last two. They were all the same... cowards!" Duskur pulled himself to his feet.

"I have no intention to hear any of that. I come to speak with my old Comrade and I am treated like his prey. Care to speak of why?" Duskur said as he wrung out his robe.

"I wouldn't care if you were the programmers! Plus I have no intention of giving any of my comrades a break, especially not you!"

"Yes... whatever. I need to speak with you on pressing matters."

"Such as...?"

"Renegades and Interlopers, and the potential fate of our friend, Ramses."

"What do you want me to do? Put them on my list? I already pull in anyone who finds my cave."

"No, I need you to come with us and pursue him."

"You mean working with you?" he asked. "I'd rather not."

"You wouldn't, would you? Not unless your life depended on it!" Duskur said harshly.

"Does it? My life is nowhere near its end, I have had quite a healthy harvest in case you didn't notice. I'm afraid we have nothing to speak of. G'day, Duskur." The creature started to walk back into its pond, but Duskur reached out and clutched its finned face.

"Listen to me...!" He hissed. "Ramses is on the move! He has more of his followers with him! We need more soldiers!"

"We as in... you and your pet?" the creature asked. But the moment he said those words, the cave started to shake. "What is this?" it asked. Duskur shrugged and let go.

"My friend is... trained to hear that word, I guess." Duskur said as he stepped away from the creature. The wall burst open as Belphes ran into the room. The creature let out a squeal and tried to retreat, but was grabbed by the legs. Belphes held up the creature by its feet and glared into its slit eyes.

"May I kill...?" Belphes rumbled. The creature started to struggle. Duskur shook his head.

"No no, my friend. You're looking malnourished, why don't you help yourself to a snack?" The creature yelped and started struggling harder. Duskur walked over and the creature to the ground. The creature gasped and tried to crawl back into the water, but Duskur stepped unto its chest before it could move.

"Why must we make things difficult, Dagon?" Duskur asked. "Why don't we work together and solve our problems together like we used to...? Instead you choose to lie before a hungry Second-Phaser!"

"I want nothing to do with you!" Dagon snapped. "Not after what got us out here in the first place! No, I'd rather stay here, in fact I am quite content with my lifestyle in here, rather than working amongst a rabble of backstabbers!" Belphes snarled.

"Listen to Duskur...!" he growled, his breath showing in the cool cavern. "Save you trouble...!" Dagon tried to look away, but Duskur clutched his face once more.

"I'd rather not work along such a hunger-crazed leech either!" Duskur said. "But the situation demands we put aside our little problems and focus on the matter at hand! Besides... Unless I'm mistaken, I hear the Sisters are at work, and I hear the Matrix is offering a fine reward for their demise... More so for Ramses' troops." Dagon started to consider. An encounter with the Sisters may be well worth it, but he hated treading the gritty dry ground above, even more so working with traitors and schemers like these two. What would he want with a reward? Then again... He could make himself a fine frenzy with all the people above!

"What must I do...?" Dagon asked cautiously.


	6. Chapter 5: Merciless

**Merciless**

Duskur looked to his partner, the brute called Belphes. Belphes's only acknowledgement was a deep snarl. Both had their eyes trained on the mouth of the cave they had departed just under an hour ago. They would've made it out sooner, only Duskur's skirmish with their former ally Dagon had dragged him down into the depths of the cave's catacombs, and after talking sense into the soul-sucking leach the two—being refused directions from Dagon—were forced to navigate their own way out.

And now the two watched the cave, straining their eyes for any sign of the emerald-armored warrior. They had to be sure that their 'Comrade' would keep his end of the bargain and head back to warn the other Devilkin of Ramses' mischief. Otherwise, they would be turning their backs to a potential enemy.

A figure appeared from the mouth. The two narrowed their eyes. The shape in the moonlight was unmistakably Dagon, fins like horns and his ivory teeth flashing in the light, but without those defining features he would have been just another stranger. _He was smart enough to turn his energy off, I'll give him that. _Duskur thought to himself. The figure started in one direction, heading north. The figure held his direction for many minutes until he was nearly out of sight. Belphes snorted. "Wait…" Duskur hissed. No sooner had Duskur said this when the figure reversed direction and headed the other way, towards them. _Typical. Either he wants me that badly, or he doesn't have the spine to face Moloch._

Duskur started back towards their previous path. "Keep your energy off," he whispered. "Don't let him track us. We lead him away and corner him, and then we try and convince him. If he fails to cooperate after that, then we'll just have to do with one less Devilkin."Belphes nodded in approval and lumbered after Duskur as they dove into the shadows of the rocks.

* * *

Dagon took a very deep breath, straining the oxygen flaps on his neck. He couldn't smell Duskur or his pet, but he did smell something headed away towards the south. _I won't let that witch and his brute get their way! I won't face the Tyrant on my own. He'll kill me… no. I need partners… or at least, I need the strength of two other Soldiers… inside me that is._ He caught himself drooling again. Duskur's flavor was so interesting he almost regretted to let the taste leave his system. Belphes would probably be much less appetizing, but he would manage. He may be a chance for Moloch if he had the strength of a prototype and a Second-Phaser in his system. And so he would follow the trail of smell and ready himself for the upcoming battle. He just hoped the battle wasn't as soon as he dared worry.

* * *

The campfire was lit. The tents were set up. The party could finally relax. They dropped their weapons and their heavy vests and sat around the fire, warming their hands from the cold wind that had numbed them. The fire flickered about as the wind threatened to suffocate it. They were all tired after the days of journey. Finally they reached their destination and finally could rest. They were in search of an Energy Plant that was sighted around the edge of the border that led into Matrix territory. The Scavengers were hired to investigate, and to see if they could find the whereabouts of two former members of a certain 'social group.' The two were said to have gone rogue and were last seen in this direction, around the vicinity of the Plant. Thanks to the use of a small Tracer, a device that tracked Matrix Energy, they were able to find the direction of the Plant relatively easily, but the distance was incredibly long. Already three days had been spent on the trail. They faced the arid heat during the day and the cold wind darkness during the night. They even had a run-in with a Social Group Caravan and had a brief skirmish. They won, but they had caught wind that the Caravan was heading to the same site they were, and they had quickened their pace. If the group found the Plant before them, there went their payment, and their journey into the wilderness would have been for naught. Personally though, the journey back was what they were concerned about. Their provisions had dwindled significantly, especially after their skirmish, and if they didn't find the Plant by tomorrow, the return trip would be very difficult.

The large truck they arrived in was parked right next to the camp. It was a brown-orange color to match the desert landscape, though most of the paint had been worn away. Bullet holes covered the left side, and its rear-fender was charred.

The lone driver sat inside, feet propped up unto the dash board, seat pushed back for resting. In the seat next to him lay the very Tracer they had used to track the Energy Plant. Its LCD screen was lain out in a grid marked by letters and numbers, and one red light lit up a certain square in the grid. He let out a yawn. His small cap blocked any source of light from glaring at his lowered head. Not that it mattered. Around them was total darkness. The campfire and the occasional torchlight was the only source of illumination for the party of scavengers. If only he had stayed alert for just another moment before he drifted into sleep, he would have noticed the Tracer he kept with him went off, as not one, but two energy signatures appeared. And one was moving.

"Ya think those two mooks came this way for the same reason we are?" one asked as he lay back on his sleeping mat.

"Wouldn't be surprised," The leader said as he sharpened a knife. "Energy Plants are valuable. Most 'Social Groups' probably run off of them. No wonder two guys would wanna keep it to themselves. But then how long will it take before they both want it for themselves?" Everyone knew the answer.

The colonies were ridden with so-called Social Groups which were really just organized crime groups. They stole, lied, hired, and killed just to increase what little profit was left in the country. The Sozialists were the worst, and the largest. They pretended to be a friendly community, offering protection and easy supplies, but the moment subscriptions weren't paid, they'd lose a customer and gain all the former's possessions. If only the remaining law enforcement, which mostly consisted of Scavengers, had the gut to resist them. Unfortunately few had the courage or power to fight back, and many were often forced to comply. The Social Group's only failing point was their lack of trust and respect for each other, and often Groups broke apart and set off on their own, or simply fell apart.

"How we gonna take control of the Plant when we find it?" Another asked. "Even if we lock it up, that won't stop other guys from breaking in and taking it for themselves."

"We do what we were paid to do; find the Plant and secure it the best we can. Anything else is their problem." The Leader said as he sheathed his knife.

The moon's silver disk shone a gentle light on the campsite. The gentle light was accompanied by the sheer cold. All would be bright and cold until the sun would rise, and then temperatures would spike. The Scavengers took turns resting and watching. Two would stand guard while the others would sleep, and then every hour they traded places. The shifts were deathly boring, but they had to stay aware. Any overlooked occurrence could very well lead to a Drone attack. One of the members on watch just finished his clockwise circle around the camp and started back in the opposite direction. Something bright entered his eyes. He blinked at the site of headlights coming in their direction. He waited a moment to see if it would change course, but the vehicle continued in their direction.

"H-Hey! Wake up! Another truck!" he shouted. One by one the Scavengers were on their feet and grabbed their weapons, as they were trained to do so many times before, any drowsiness was put off and forgotten. They aimed their guns at the truck. "Who's there?!" He called. The large truck slowly pulled to a stop. Its green chrome finish was worn and scratched by the desert, its windshield cracked in a corner and the wheels were mismatched, but a single emblem that rested on its side spoke enough. An army-shield with two leaves crossed over it.

"Great…" the Leader breathed. "More Sozials." The very same group that they've been avoiding and conflicting with had made it this far, and they decided to stop by their camp. Hopefully it was a different part of the caravan or the Sozials would have a grudge match with them. The van stopped a good distance from the campsite. A few poorly armored men piled out. They were unarmed. They looked at the group before them.

"Quite a distance from home, huh?" one called as he approached. The Scavengers frowned. Sozials trying to be friendly wasn't a good sign. The speaker walked up to the Leader. "Where ya headin' to?" The Scavengers turned to their Leader for directions.

"Where we were paid to go, what do you want?!" the Leader snapped.

"Oh… We were just heading to a nearby stash, and it happens that you and your oversized pack seem to be blocking the only way through the rocks," the Speaker called, tone polite, words rather rude. The Scavengers looked at each other. This must be part of the same caravan they'd been fighting.

"So what do you want us to do? Make room for your camp? We'd be willing to do that." The Leader asked.

"We would?" another Scavenger asked, but he was hushed by a comrade. The Sozial shook his head.

"No, I was implying for you to move the entire camp aside and let us move through, if you'd be so willing." And why would they casually ask such an intrusive request? Because they felt they had the power to enforce it, and that made the Scavengers uneasy.

"You can set up wherever you want around here; we have no need to move aside."

"Now-now, I'm sure we can come to an agreement," the Soziak said as his smile faded. "Are you on an assignment, or are you on your own? Either way, we can pay you and your crew handsomely if you get on your way, if you were so willing."

"Well, we're not!" the Leader shouted as he raised his gun. "We won't be bribed! Find your own rat nest!"

"Now-now! Let's not cause any unnecessary violence and attract any drones!" he said nervously as he backed away. "Why don't we just pay you for your site? We'll give you its weight in Quarter-Tokens!" The Leader cocked his gun.

"Git out!" he said through clenched teeth.

"Dollars then? We have plenty of those!" The Leader's response was a gunshot that just missed the speaker's feet.

"Next time I'll aim!" he snarled. The Sozial sighed. He raised his hand and clenched. One by one, the Sozials behind him picked up and readied their guns.

"Oh cru…*" The Scavengers readied their weapons all at once. The Leader followed suit.

"Sir… not a plan…" A Scavenger whispered. They were outnumbered by more than they would have liked.

"Think it over, man!" The Sozial said. "Your men or your camp. We don't have to be so aggressive over a single piece of land!"

"That's _my_ men, or _our_ Job!" The Leader said. The Sozials took this as a confirmation for death, and opened fire.

* * *

_Oh yes, _Duskur thought. _He will have a very hard time resisting this._ They had discovered the caravan and decided to lure Dagon here and catch him off-guard. Though actually letting him feed was a questionable tactic, as he may grow stronger, Dagon was at his most vulnerable when he fed, as were other Neo-Soldiers designed for Vampirism. The Matrix decided to make Neo-Soldiers resemble creatures from mythology to frighten the superstitious and 'religious,' and to accompany this, they gave them special abilities. Dagon, being named after a God demanding sacrifice, was design to feed upon Mortals. Himself, in according to his namesake, had the ability over illusions, he could trap his opponents inside illusions and weaken their mind and spirit, or make illusions and fool them. It was how he was able to creep upon Ramses' party without being noticed, and how he intended to take Dagon by surprise when he was done feeding. _And maybe I'll trap him in one when he refuses,_ he thought to himself. _Yes, a world with no water or people, just him and the dry, dry dirt for company. That ought to drive him mad—_Duskur cringed as he felt something stroke his neck. He turned around and shoved Belphes' bulky hand back.

"_What_ do you think you're doing?!" he hissed.

"Your neck…" Belphes croaked. "…wounded."Duskur felt the back of his neck, the very place where Dagon had bit him not more than an hour ago. He felt that his outer skin had been pierced and the mortal flesh underneath had been torn. He drew back his hand and found it stained with a slowly drooling liquid, dark-red in the moonlight. Blood. Dagon had made him bleed. He almost forgot the sensation; otherwise he would have noticed it sooner. Duskur slowly clenched his fist. It was an insult… to make a Neo-Soldier bleed, and an unforgiveable one. To be bled by a comrade was punishable by death. "I make Dagon pay," Belphes declared. Duskur shook his head.

"No, Belphes. I will deal to him what he deserves. But not yet. We may need him to fight Ramses. When Ramses and his un-dead troops are gone, then he may pay." Duskur's voice was calm, but his body convulsed with rage. His trembling hand flashed with energy for a brief second, evaporating the liquid, leaving a red crust on his hand.

* * *

The truck driver's eyes snapped open at the sound of gunfire. He heard the bullet shots ricocheting off of the armored truck. He gasped and ducked down for cover. A bullet was shot through the window, sending a web of cracks through it. The Driver gently eased for the door on the opposite side of the action so he could crawl his way out, but then he noticed something about the tracer. Two energy signatures and one was closing in on them! He almost stood up and screamed for the captain, but he stopped himself just in time as a bullet shattered the door's window.

The scavengers ducked behind a rock for cover as the Sozials fired at them and their camp. Their Tents were shredded by the hail of bullets, and the truck was becoming more dented then when it arrived. The Leader shot over the rock just in time to immobilize a Sozial. "Dang it… of all times…" The Leader cocked his gun again, but instead of firing his gun, he took a canister from his vest.

"Chemicals?!" a Scavenger asked.

"Put on your masks!" The Leader said as he threw the projectile back over the rock. The Scavengers didn't dare look and watch, but they could hear the explosion and the hiss. They hastily put on their breathing guards as the sharp sting of teargas filled the air. They could already hear the Sozials coughing and hacking. One by one weapons were dropped and people sank to the ground. After the hissing stopped, everything was silent. The white mist passed over to the east, not leaving a trace of its presence.

"When do we go?" A scavenger asked, voice muffled by the mask.

"Count to five… and then go," the Leader replied. A beat passed.

"Now?"

The leader nodded. A scavenger rose to his feet, took off his mask, and approached the unconscious Sozials, but quickly started coughing and turned away. "Where did you learn to count?!" he asked as the sting wore away. The others laughed and removed their masks. The smell was still in the air, but the Sozials were either out cold from the shock or wheezing and gasping for air with their tear-stained cheeks.

"Why'd you have to use this?" one asked.

"The Convention states that when under attack, such means can be authorized," the Leader said as he started pushing the fallen Sozialites over into a group for easy binding.

"But that was under the impression of Drone attack!" another said. The Leader shrugged.

"They didn't change that part yet, plus I don't think Drones could care less about chemical weapons, it's not like they breathe." Rocks started rustling. A Sozial rose to his knees and fired. The Leader grunted as a bullet pierced his arm. The other Scavengers were on top of the assaulter in an instant, but already Sozials who had managed to avoid too much inhalation were rising to their feet, the speaker included. They all aimed their guns, and the Scavengers were forced to lower theirs. The speaker laughed.

"You didn't think we didn't try something like that before? We're well trained for this sort of attack. Now hold still so we don't make a mess." The Scavengers looked to their leader, clutching his bleeding bicep and cursing under his breath.

"Captain!" Everyone was taken by surprise by the Driver suddenly calling out. "Captain! The Tracer!" The Scavengers took their chance. They rushed the Sozials and quickly apprehended them. Their guns were forced from their hands and thrown away, and their hands were bound.

"What is it?!" The leader shouted as he rose to his feet. The Driver ran from behind the truck, eyes wide with fear.

"The Tracer says there's a Drone coming!" he shouted. The newfound silence became darker. The Sozials exchanged frightened glances.

"From where?!" The Driver looked at the Tracer.

"It should be right on top of us!" The Scavengers that could still fight readied their firearms. Everything was quiet. The speaker looked up at the Leader.

"How about we forget about this and just go our separate ways?!" he pleaded. The Leader kicked the fool in the side.

"We stay put." He hissed. A soft, slithering sound crawled around them. The Truck headlights were crushed and broken by an unidentifiable arm. Everyone aimed their guns but found nothing. A rock was thrown into the air and the campfire was crushed. More slithering.

"Wha-wait! Help!" One of the Sozialites was dragged away by an invisible figure. Another followed. One of the Scavengers dropped his gun, and when the other went to check on him, he was gone.

"What's going on?!" The leader shouted. "Whose there?!" As if in answer, a recital of screaming broke out in the distance. Shadows were thrown into the air and came crashing down into the group. A thin powder rose into the air, choking the Scavengers. They turned on the torchlights attached to their guns and aimed around, and froze at what they saw. The body of one of the Sozials, but he looked disturbingly different.

The lower body had literally disintegrated, leaving just an empty pile of clothing with more fine powder pouring out of the sleeves. The upper body was skeletal and crumbly. The body's only defining features were the bones showing from its dry disintegrating skin. The eyes were sunken into the skull, and the jaw gaped uselessly. Everyone was quiet. They looked to their side and there was the body of their former ally, in the same condition. A soft slithering sound surrounded them. A tendril knocked the torchlight from the scavenger's hand. Another one hit the console away from the Driver.

They pointed their guns everywhere but found nothing. They heard a footstep. And then another. Everyone slowly grouped together in front of the corpse, taking their prisoners with them, and pointed their guns at where the sound was coming from… behind the corpse. The scavenger fearfully retrieved his torch and pointed at the source of the sound, only to drop it at the sight of the figure.

Emerald armor that glimmered like green flame in the moonlight, arms and legs barbed with bone-like claws, clawed feet and hands, spikes arching from its back, a tendril spouting off of each forearm, and a head covered with translucent scales and bone-like fins, and silver teeth that never seemed to stop shimmering. With a hiss, the creature's eyes lit up to a bright green, as did a series of lines on his body. Patterns all over his body lit up, leading to a glowing core on its back. The tentacles elongated as the gaps in their segments glowed the same color.

No one needed to be told. They all aimed their guns and fired at the Drone's obvious weak-spots, but the bullets either shattered or bounced. "H-hey! Stay back!" a scavenger said, barely able to keep the fear from his voice.

The creature slowly approached, crushing the dry body with its steps. The scavenger fired again, only for the creature to leap several stories into the air. "J-just relax!" The leader said as he took aim with his good arm. "It's just a Drone!" The creature's glowing mouth opened as a shrill hiss pierced the night air. The creature flashed a very toothy smile. _Over ten mortals and only five… four of them are tasty enough to consider…Then again, I need all the strength I can manage… even if the meal is unsatisfactory._ The creature stood up to its full height; nearly seven feet tall, not counting its horned head. It took another step. The leader fired again. "I said stay back!" he shouted.

"Don't bother, it's a drone, they don't listen!" a Scavenger said as he prepared to fire. The creature laughed.

"Insult…" it gurgled. "…To pair me with those ants…"It lashed out its tentacle and sliced a Sozial in the leg with its sharp tip. The crook toppled to the ground. The Leader fired again, only for the creature to _catch_ the bullets and toss them to the side.

"What are you?!" Someone shouted. The creature's smile left, only for it to return a moment later.

"Very well… My name is Dagon. I'm a Neo-Soldier. I eat Mortals for fun." The words were simple, and to some they may have sounded uninspired and weak, but for a troop that's been on the move for a week, alone in the cold dark desert, and just witnessing the passing of a disintegrated corpse, it was enough to make their knees shake. Dagon looked to the distance and smiled as he saw the Speaker try and shuffle his way to the truck. "Isn't that cute…?" Dagon cued. "He's trying to escape…" The response was a gunshot to the head, which he barely felt. He looked down at the people surrounding him. _Best start with the fiends. No one will miss them. I'll only do the soldiers if I'm still hungry._

The following minutes were chaos. Dagon rushed at the party. He jabbed a Scavenger with his barbed knee and sent him hurtling into another. Without the option of projectiles, they resorted to knives and the butts of their guns. One got close enough to slam his gun unto Dagon's head, only for it to shatter. Dagon's tendrils wrapped around the Scavenger and lifted him into the air. Dagon hissed as the tendrils constricted. The Scavenger cried out in pain. Dagon tossed the Scavenger away into a rock and leapt into the air. He landed next to a Sozial and his tendrils prepared to wrap around the crook until another scavenger intervened. Dagon rolled under the scavenger and punched him away, pulled out his tentacle and wrapped him into its grip. In a single movement he had hit another scavenger and pulled his prey into his sharp embrace. He dug his needle teeth into the man's neck. The man's face twisted and he cried out in agony, but no sooner did he scream did he crumple to the ground, an emaciated dried out corpse.

Dagon spat at the bland flavor, but was ready to make room for more. The Sozial kicked himself to his feet and started to flee. Dagon shot out his tentacle. Everyone turned away in horror as the sharp rigid tendril dug into the fleeing man's back and pulled him back to Dagon. Dagon took one bite and tossed the dry corpse behind him.

Dagon took a deep breath, feeling another being's life added to his own. It made him feel young again for a moment. The feeling passed and his hunger rekindled, especially by looking at all the people still foolishly trying to fight him off. A rapid series of gunshots struck him in his back. Dagon recoiled and hissed. He had to keep his guard up after a meal or he was defenseless, of course a few humans couldn't do him too much harm, right? Another shot, and he nearly felt the bullet pierce his energy circuits. His face twisted into anger. Not caring who he struck, he launched another tentacle, grabbed a scavenger by the arm, and pulled him into a fast but agonizing death. _…Meh. Next time I'll aim for the rats._

Another Scavenger rushed at him, but Dagon simply grabbed the man's arms, turned him around, and shoved the man's arms against his own back. The bones cracked and the man collapsed from the shock. Dagon took a large sniff, searching for another victim.

Dagon heard the truck start up. The Driver had made a run for it and was leading the other Scavengers away. Dagon snarled, reared back and threw his tentacle into the vehicle, tearing a hole through the roof. The leader hastily pulled a small black spherical device from his vest and activated it. He signaled for his men to make as much distance as possible.

Dagon retrieved his tentacle and prepared to do the same tactic, but then he felt something strike his back. It wasn't a gunshot; in fact it stayed in place and was rather large. Dagon reached back and pulled the strange contraption off. It was covered in a thick strap that adhered to his hand. A few red lights were blinking rapidly. It was a bomb.

Dagon squealed and tried to pull it away, but the device detonated, sending him hurtling into one of the rocks. Dagon angrily pulled himself up. His tendrils were ruptured and his armor had a large dent. Their chance was taken. The Scavenger Leader signaled to his remaining partners to escape. They all made a run for the truck. Dagon considered whether or not to grab one while he still could, but then he caught scent of something that practically reeked with the quality he was looking for.

He looked to his side and saw the Speaker, his legs crushed by rocks from the explosion, trying in vain to crawl away. Dagon smiled. He leapt over and pulled the man to his broken feet. The boss looked back at the Scavengers who filed into the truck. "N-No! Stop! Help!" he wailed. The Leader stopped running and looked back at the Boss. "I'll give you anything you want! Anything! Just help me!" he screamed. The Leader stared. The two men's eyes locked. The Leader shook his head. He joined his comrades as the vehicle drove away. The Sozial felt a mixture of despair and anger. He fearfully turned his gaze to the monster that suspended him in the air. Dagon smiled.

"_Time… to eat!"_

* * *

Duskur waited until the screaming had stopped. He waited until the truck was well out of reach. He activated his energy, told Belphes to stay put, and slid down from their rocky balcony. He quietly overlooked the attack site as Dagon quite finished his meal at the other end. Duskur looked at all the dry, dead bodies. For each of these lives taken, Dagon's own life increased. Dagon was already beyond the age of a Mortal after all of his meals. And now after consuming twice of what he would in a year…

Dagon angrily kicked the head of one of the corpses, sending fine powder blowing away in the wind and a dry brittle skull hurtling into a rock and shattering.

"At this rate… you'll outlive Odin!" Duskur snarled. Dagon had a start and turned around. He shouldn't be surprised, he knew, but the idea of Duskur getting the drop on him was rather unnerving. Dagon decided to act casual. He rose from his meal and started towards Duskur.

"The more the better. You can't trust a king to rule _his entire life._ It would be unwise to let someone live for so long and command so many people. I like to think of this as making room for a replacement… Don't you think?" Dagon asked, trying to keep his eyes from wandering over Duskur's deactivated weapon. Duskur laughed.

"And I suppose that replacement you're suggesting is yourself?" He asked as he stroked his scythe. "You may live longer, but the King is always stronger…" Duskur giggled to himself. "I just made that one. I got to make them more often…" Dagon stalked past his 'comrade,' hoping to make some distance for a silent attack. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than did he feel the warm glow of Duskur's energy scythe touch his neck. "Don't try anything." Duskur growled. "We've got more control over this than you think." Dagon tried to struggle, but Duskur pulled on the scythe, bringing the blade closer and singeing his neck armor. "Belphes is waiting for us above. If you so as much as bare your fangs, he'll be on top of you… quite literally." Dagon didn't dare look up, but he could hear the ever memorable sound of Belphe's wings flapping and the faint glow of his energy on the ground beneath them.

"So… I take it you made it to Moloch's faraway fortress in under an hour and he sent for us?" Duskur asked. Dagon snarled.

"No…" he growled.

"Then why on this living earth did you bother try and follow us? Were you hungry? Or were you cowardly?" Duskur asked. Dagon wanted to turn around and hiss at him, but he wouldn't risk becoming the new footstool for a heavy Second-Phaser if he could help it. A small beeping noise went off. Duskur scanned the area and found the little console left by the Driver. He removed his scythe from Dagon and went to inspect. Dagon turned around and spat a hiss, but just then Belphes landed gently behind him. So gently that Dagon didn't notice him in time until he was trapped inside Belphes' grip.

Ignoring Dagon's threats and obscene insults, Duskur observed the small device. It detailed a small grid lit by and incredibly old screen format; LCD. The grid was labeled by numbers and letters, none that he cared to decipher, and four lights lit up on and off on the grid. Three were in close proximity, the fourth was a good deal to the south east, not too far from Dagon's cave, and was considerably bigger. _A tracer… I was wondering how they discovered Dagon so quickly. The first few are obviously the three of us. Then the fourth…_

"Why do you bother with that primitive technology?" Dagon hissed. "You want to track an energy source? I've got ten times the worth of that thing in the processors in my helmet's _temple!_" Duskur had half a mind to tear Dagon's temple off and make him count, but decided against it.

"There are four markers on this map," Duskur said. "The coordinates are rather crude, but they point to a large energy source that appears to be placed around your Cave. Any idea what it may be?" Duskur asked. Dagon didn't answer. But then he smiled.

"If you took me back there, maybe we could see…" he whispered. Belphes tightened his grip angrily and Dagon started to wheeze. Duskur looked back at Belphes and shook his head. Belphes looked back with confused eyes. Duskur shook his head again. Belphes released Dagon.

Dagon stood up and straightened himself, but then Duskur activated his scythe, swiped off Dagon's tendrils and pointed it at his back. "Lead us back." Duskur said. Dagon cursed.

* * *

…_**You did not heed us… And have paid the price… But you have another chance… Leave the village, go out into the wastelands… find us… and we will help you regain your memories…No one will condemn you… You will be safe… come to us and this madness you feel will last no longer…**_

Storm's eyes snapped open. His head hurt and his back hurt. He could barely see anything. He tried to observe the room, but in the dim light of the night he couldn't discern enough shapes. He knew he was inside a tent, resting on a mattress. Long straps covered his chest. He followed them to his back and cringed as he touched the spot where his back was scratched. It felt surprisingly painless; perhaps the injury wasn't as bad as he thought? He managed to sit up and look around. His back barely hurt and only demanding movement from it brought pain. As his vision adapted to his surroundings, he made out that he was inside a tent. He looked to his side and saw all his gear laid in a neat pile beside him. His scabbard was badly torn but still usable, his jacket was slightly torn on the edges, and his shades were damaged, another fight and they would break. He still remembered the fight with the Wolf. His temple felt like it was pumping. He felt his head and found a minor bruise on the side. That was a relief; if it were serious he might've woken up dead.

He carefully stood up. He saw Teru sleeping on the couch. So this was their tent, he couldn't make it out in the dim light. He grabbed his jacket and walked outside. He felt safer outside for some reason, and he didn't want to wake the boy up. Nobody was out, typically. A few tents still had lights shining from the inside, like the tent where the camp leader, Abiram lived. Storm noticed the jeep that the Pack had used. A huge gash covered the side of the vehicle. One of the tires was flat and needed to be replaced. He remembered that they were left to fight the wolf after it had struck him down. He felt the gash and it was still from the Wolf's energy. He bit his lip, fearing how much trouble he may have caused by leading it away, only to have the Pack follow and help.

"Storm?" Storm flinched at the voice and reached for his sword, and of course he had left it behind, and the sudden movement sent a streak of pain through his back, and his head gave of a pang of dizziness. A figure approached. It was only Abir. Storm relaxed. "Watcha doing up? I thought you were hurt," Abir said. Storm shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said, ignoring the pumping in his head. Abir shrugged and looked at the jeep.

"Yeaah… that thing's seen better days," he admitted. "We've had Ammar as our main mechanic to fix it up. That reminds me; we had him look at your bike…"

"You did what?" Storm appreciated the help, but the idea of that over-enthusiast working with his bike after the way he acted was rather unsettling. Abir laughed.

"Don't worry, we made him swear he wouldn't take it apart. Anyway, the damage was nothing serious and he's already fixed it up. It can drive again like there was no problem." Storm carefully listened and nodded. "You should probably go and pick it up when you get the chance. Maybe you should hit the sack first or something. Oh! Wait, how's your head?" Storm felt his temple again. The pounding had ceased for the time being.

"Bruised. Maybe a little headache, nothing dangerous," he said.

"Yeah, but you may have to try and stay awake. You never want to rest with a hurt head." Storm nodded. "I'm amazed you're still kicking after what it did to you, actually." Abir continued. "I mean… you wouldn't expect a normal Drone to do something so vicious unless it was mad. Then again, it did look pretty ticked after you shoved it off and gave it that slice down the middle." Storm was confused.

"After… it pounced me?" He asked slowly. Abir nodded. "I don't… remember anything after being attacked again." Now Abir looked just as confused as Storm. But then he shrugged.

"Er… it was probably the blow to the head. Some people forget a thing or two after something like that." _Of course,_ Storm thought. _If that's the case, I'd better avoid something like that again or I'll forget even more!_ "Or some people remember stuff after getting hit. Never saw you fight before, but you were pretty much in control of the battle after the first blow."

"Some people remember after getting hit?" Storm asked.

"Yep. Lots of people do. Cord for example," Abir said with a chuckle. "But you're better off doing what Chea says for stuff like that." Storm looked back at the truck and remembered something.

"Did anyone… get hurt?" he asked. Abir sighed.

"Randel's arm got hurt and Tallak was hit on the back like you."Storm winced. "But they're both fine! Give 'em some time and they'll be ready for battle, like Caden!"

"How much time?" Storm asked.

"…Maybe a week," Abir admitted. Storm sighed. For a moment he regretted coming to the village. If he didn't come, then those two wouldn't have gotten hurt. Was it really worth it to stay?

"Where's my bike?" Storm asked. Abir pointed down into the crowd of tents.

"Last tent around the west side, it's connected to an old shed, you can't miss it." Storm nodded and started in the direction. Abir found himself following after. "Hey! You're gonna go get it now?" he called. Storm's only response was a simple 'yeah.' _Who am I kidding, _Abir thought to himself. _The cook's probably still up!_

Ammar's tent was, to say the least, a mess. While the tent was a simple bed and desk, in the space of the shed was a litter of tinkered objects, mechanical and electronic, all scattered about the dirt floor. The shelves of the shed were lined with dysfunctional gadgets and broken machine parts. But in the midst of it Storm clearly made out his crimson bike, its sheen unscathed by the battle from last night. The only sign of wear was in the engine, where a large welding mark spread about.

"Wasn't too banged up, for a battle with a drone, I mean," Ammar continued as he started moving around debris to make room for the bike to move. "Tried it out a few times and it works fine. You might wanna watch the acceleration though. Only try like I dunno… 85% throttle. Otherwise the engine may crack up. There are more tinkerers like me around so if you have to go that fast… just make sure you're close to a village when it happens." Storm nodded, barely listening. His eyes were scanning the majority of objects lining the shed. A small silver pendant caught his eye. He picked it up and saw it was actually a locket.

"Where did you find this?" Storm asked. Ammar didn't look up.

"Found it at some wreckage. Dunno what it is, can't open it, don't wanna break it open, heck you can keep it. Nobody wants it." Storm looked at the locket. It was round and silver and covered with intricate vine-like carvings, and a small emblem was in the middle. He stared at the emblem. Had he seen it before? It looked familiar but… He set it down. He noticed what looked like a helmet and picked it up, but froze with fright to see it was none other than a Drone's head!

"Where'd you get this?" he asked. Ammar looked up from his work.

"That old thing? Cord brought it back from one of their trips, figuring we could do something with it. But I tell you, the Matrix might as well be from the future the way they make their stuff, I can't make heads or tails of that thing. That reminds me, there's a rumor going on that the Matrix actually have made an FTL drive and are…" Storm quit listening a long time ago. He turned over the odd head in his hands. The Drone's visor was broken, revealing the now unlit eyes underneath, webbed with circuitry. The four jaws dangled uselessly, lined with teeth and tiny turrets, and its neck was just a mass of cords. Storm placed the head down and noticed two large tarps covering two obstructions on the wall.

He walked over and carefully pulled one tarp down and had a start. The wolf was underneath. It was deactivated, but its face was still frozen in a snarl. Synthetic life drooled from its mandibles. Its chest had a huge gash carved down the middle, revealing machinery and pipe work, all ruptured and burst. Storm hoped that this creature didn't run on the same cores that the Drones he fought did. The idea of that swarming mass of tendrils put a pit in his stomach. "W-what's this doing here?" he asked.

"…but whether they actually came from the future or not is… huh?"

"What's this doing here?" Storm repeated.

"Oh-Oh! The Pack brought that back with em! Believe it or not, but that whole machine is much simpler than the Drone head. Me and the others are gonna gut it tomorrow to see if we can't retrieve any usable tech." Storm stared at the silenced Drone. Simple Gun-Fire couldn't have made such a hole in the Wolf. Did he do that? Abir did mention that he attacked the wolf _after_ it had pounced him. But he was unconscious during the time. What did he do? …He did pull a few strange maneuvers without thinking during the fight. Could that have been part of it?

"…Is the bike refueled?" Storm asked. Ammar hastily nodded.

"To the brim," he said. "Why? Ya going somewhere?" Ammar apparently wasn't very aware of the issue of whether or not Storm should join the pack. Storm nodded.

"Yeah, I am. Do you know where your sister is?" he asked. Ammar shrugged.

"Tending to Randel and Tallak, I'd imagine, at the infirmary. Why?" Storm hesitated.

"I need to tell her I'm leaving."

Storm walked his bike out of the tent. Abir was waiting for him, and his face was written with disappointment and worry. "This isn't about Cord is it?" Abir asked. "You're welcome to stay! No one will give you a hard time and…"

"That's fine," Storm interrupted. "I just… Don't think I belong here… For now." Abir was quiet. He admitted to himself it was very typical for a scavenger to want to move on, but he honestly hoped Storm would stay and join the pack.

"Storm… We'd make a great team if you stayed. You could help us help the camp, and Chea could help you. You don't really need to leave…" Abir ventured, but Storm had made his decision. He shook his head. He started for the infirmary.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

* * *

Mental waves bounced back and forth between the onlooker and his target. He had followed his person of interest ever since he had awoken. It was his job to preserve him for the mission he was recalled for. He had to protect him from forces he had no control of. He saved him when a Drone self-destructed. He planted the seed of anxiety by willing thoughts into the target's mind as he slept. And now the target had finally detached and was ready to head back into the wilderness, back where the onlooker and his partners would lead him and the others against the Matrix.

He rose from his resting place. Silver armor clasped unto his figure, dirtied from his days in the desert, but still reflective of the midnight moon. Wing-like growths rested on his shoulders. His face was concealed by a falcon-like helmet. His build was slim and stream-lined, and an all-seeing eye was carved into one side of his face. The figure turned and started his trip back. Horus's mission was accomplished.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

**Yes, this is a rare occurrence, but it is an important one. I used to update the story on a near-weekly basis, but we all know what happened to that. I was under the impression that this would only run for five or so chapters, but after 'accidentally' complicating things, I have expanded that to ten chapters. I feel I need to spend more time writing than stalling, so therefore I am putting Phantasm on Hiatus until I have sufficient 'Stock' for the next six entries. I appreciate the people who have taken their time to read this story. Thank you for reading, hopefully I won't be gone for too long.**

**And one last thing;**  
***Crumb, he was going to say crumb.**


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